The Best Actor in the World
by Atana
Summary: The sequel to "Wayfaring Stranger". Life goes on for young Severus Snape after his release from St. Mungo's. A simple geology lesson leads to a quest of sorts - what will it reveal and how will it change his life forever?
1. Default Chapter

THE BEST ACTOR IN THE WORLD  
  
A Snivellus/Marauders Fic  
  
sequel to "Wayfaring Stranger"  
  
by Atana  
  
Snape and other HP characters belong to J. Rowling and not to me. Original characters, however, certainly do. To see the illustrations for this story, go to my Profile page and click on the hyperlink. No slash, no sex. PG-13. Angst alert!

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Like the mountains near Achnashellach and the Torridon Mountains further to the north, Scotland's hills and mountains lie over the mountains of the Magickal world like slices of time and space. If one had the sight to see it (and it would most assuredly bring on an attack of vertigo), mountains, mountain climbers, expeditions, and people just living their lives in the Muggle and Wizarding worlds respectively lie only temporal seconds from one another.  
  
Muggle mountaineers strove to climb the so-called "Seven Summits" – the highest peaks on each continent. Some were familiar to the average Muggle and some were not: Kilimanjaro, Denali, Elbrus, Aconcagua, Carstensz Pyramid, Vinson Massif, and Everest. To find the Wizarding World's highest peaks was far trickier.  
  
With that goal in mind, Lily and James sat in the library busily doing research for their "Magickal World" class.  
  
"This is boring," James Potter muttered.  
  
"Is not," Lily Evans replied.  
  
"'Tis too."  
  
"Everybody knows that altitude can change or warp the spells people try to cast. Exactly why, when, and how is the whole reason for the course in the first place, James. Either you can sit there and grumble or you can help me figure out the highest mountains in the Wizarding World, and do so hopefully before tomorrow's class."  
  
"Spoken like a true geology nerd," James thought but did not say. His mama hadn't raised a fool. He very much enjoyed spending time with Lovely Lily, who (according to her) was NOT his GIRLFRIEND but was only his FRIEND.  
  
Sighing, James Potter looked up and across the alcove at a student busily scratching on a parchment at about a mile a minute.  
  
"Wonder what Snape has so far?" he said.  
  
"Why don't you ask him?"  
  
"Dunno," James said, sighing again.  
  
Lily lay her book down and patted James on the hand. Her mama hadn't raised a fool either. "I'm so very proud of the way you welcomed Sev back to the school. I know he's weird, but he got the 'Hogwarts Scholar' award last year even with all his difficulties, if you'll remember."  
  
"He's so far behind, though," James remarked, "It will take him forever to catch up. He won't have that trouble in Transfiguration, though -- I heard that McGonagall waived his last three examinations."  
  
"That woman has a good heart – and so do you, James," Lily said, smiling and brushing her auburn bangs from her green eyes. James could get lost in them, and she knew it. "What are you staring at?" she returned sweetly.  
  
"Um – nothing, Lily," James said, taken aback when his survey of her beauty was no longer a secret.  
  
Lily batted her eyelashes, though only once. "Why don't you ask him to work with us? We're all in the same Magickal World class after all."  
  
"Oh, all right," James sighed once again. He stood and stretched.  
  
Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew – sitting four tables away from James and Lily – immediately began to wave and mug at him. Sirius made gestures as if he was kissing somebody passionately. Then he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue – looking remarkably like his animagus self. Peter went 'nyah' and made the appropriate finger gestures to accompany it. Remus Lupin kept to his work but couldn't help but smiling at his friends.  
  
James bared his teeth and made a cutting gesture across his throat.  
  
He then walked over to Snape's table. The dark-haired boy was completely surrounded by stacks of old and musty books, some of which were published as early as the sixteenth century.  
  
James glanced up at Pettigrew, now sticking his finger down his throat and pretending to vomit.  
  
James bared his teeth at him.  
  
"Cheers, Sev," James said, sitting down across from Severus Snape.  
  
The boy raised his eyes and returned Potter's gaze. "What's up," he replied.  
  
"How have you been?"  
  
Severus sighed, still uncomfortable with conversations and most human contact in general. "All right. Halfway decent, actually. You?"  
  
"Same. Bored crosseyed with that mountains assignment, though."  
  
Severus' first response would have been a shrug and a return to his work. However, he reminded himself to do what Shonsey had taught him – take a deep breath, smile, and speak. Being solitary by nature was fine so long as it didn't isolate you from others. Isolation Wasn't Therapeutic.  
  
"I seem to have most of it knocked," Snape responded.  
  
"Lily and I were wondering if we three could – well, work together on it," James said with an ill-disguised touch of desperation. He had done next door to squat on the assignment.  
  
Sev took a deep breath – smiled – and spoke. "So long as the two of you don't glom onto everything that I look up, it's fine with me." Severus brushed his long black hair out of his eyes. "Come on over here if you like; I don't feel like moving all these books."  
  
James gave Sev a "thumb's up" gesture and stood up to leave. He looked over at the other two Marauders, who were alternatively making "the bird" at him and/or pretending to strangle one another.  
  
Off he went, back to Lily's table. More mugging and mock-kissing from Sirius and Peter.  
  
James smirked and shook his head.  
  
"What the deuce are you doing, James?" Lily commented. She looked over her shoulder. "Remus Lupin is the only one of that batch of imbeciles I speak to these days. The two of you were decent enough to visit Sev in St. Mungo's. That pair of twin idiot gits was awful. Shame on both of them, I say."  
  
"Want to come over and join Sev?" James inquired.  
  
He then gave her his "adorable grin". It never failed to touch his mum's heart and had gotten him out of trouble more than once at home. The question was: would it soften the heart of Babelicious Evans?  
  
"Is there something wrong with your nose?" Lily inquired.  
  
For one horrible moment, James wondered if it needed blowing. Cutting his losses at once, his face relaxed into a more natural cast of features. "What do you think?"  
  
"Excellent," she said, standing up. "I'll add our lists to his and see how we end up. I'm really, really glad you talked to him, James. You are really a kind person once one gets past all the bluff and bluster!"  
  
James tried the "adorable grin" once again. She might have missed it the first time. Unfortunately, Lily had been too busy putting her things in her book bag to notice it.  
  
"Sev's rather fragile and I think he is trying to keep away from everyone so he doesn't get hurt again. I'm really proud of you." Lovely Lily smiled at James as she scooped up her book bag and parchment.  
  
His heart sang.  
  
-----------  
  
"Hey, Sev," Lily said, sitting next to him.  
  
Snape looked up at her and actually smiled. No problem with poor socialization skills when Lily was involved! "Hey, Lily. Want to know what I've come up with so far?" the Slytherin boy asked. Neither paid much attention to Potter, who had dropped his armloads of books on the floor and was scrambling around to pick them up before the Madam Pince saw the mess.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"The first thing I did was to find the tallest mountains in the Magickal World. Then I'll put them to their proper continents. Seven mountains – "  
  
"– For seven summits," Lily finished, smiling and looking at Snape's parchment, already covered (as usual) with his tiny and cramped writing.  
  
Severus read from it: "Ascraeus Mons, Erebus Mons, Hellespontus, Iaxartes Tholus, Issedon Tholus -- "  
  
"What the devil is a tholus, anyway?" James groused, slamming into his seat and feeling just a bit left out. A dismal slew of bent and dog-eared parchments fanned out of one of the books he'd just crazied onto the library table. Sev and Lily stared at them.  
  
"It's a formation that's not big enough to be called a proper mountain," Severus replied. "Shall I continue?"  
  
"By all means," Lily said, patting Sev's arm. James Potter almost bit his tongue in half.  
  
"-- Jovis Tholus, Labeatis Mons, Nereidum Montes, Tyrrhena Mons, Nereidum Mons, Octantis Mons, Sephira Mons, Theia Mons, and Ts'an Nu Mons. That's the lot, so far."  
  
It was Lily's turn. "Here's what I have. My method wasn't quite as scientific, I'm afraid," she added, pulling her own parchment close to Severus.  
  
The boy blinked. Lovely Lily sure smelled nice. She certainly did.  
  
"Let me see," James said, trying to twist his head as upside-down as it would go.  
  
Lily humphed. "Why don't you come round to see better, James?"  
  
"Right, then," Potter said, getting up, walking around the table, and standing behind them. He felt like an idiot.  
  
"So go ahead and read," Lily prompted him. James cleared his throat, praying to any and all deities in both Worlds, Muggle and Magickal, that she didn't consider him a total dullard.  
  
"Um. Atsyrkhus Mons, Awenhai Mons, Chuginadak Mons, Ciuacoatl Mons, and Eostre Mons."  
  
"What about your list?" Snape asked, looking up at him expectantly.  
  
"It's over in my stuff."  
  
"Then why not go round again and fetch it, James?"  
  
Oh, yes. Dullard with a Capital D.  
  
Burning with shame, James got his parchment, walked back around a second time, and lay it before them. "I started at the N's," he remarked in desperation.  
  
"Why?" Severus asked.  
  
"Why not?" Potter replied.  
  
Oh good on you James, he thought to himself. First behaving like a dullard and then popping off at a kid who just got released from the Nuthouse. He frantically wished it was lunchtime so he could leave.  
  
Sev pursed his lips. "Very well, then; let's hear them."  
  
Lily chose to do the reading this time. "Nahas-tsan Mons, Nepthys Mons, Vostrukha Mons, Wyrd Mons, and – um -- Xochiquetzal Mons. Hope I didn't sound too silly!" Lily gave a girlish little laugh, which pierced the hearts of James and Severus with its beauty. Both boys nearly fell over themselves assuring her that they thought no such thing. The idea!  
  
I wonder if she'd notice if I drooled on the table, James thought to himself.  
  
If I passed out suddenly, would she give me mouth-to-mouth rescucitation, Snape pondered in his heart of hearts.  
  
"Well, what's next?" Lily chirped.  
  
Both boys sat transfixed until the question worked its way through their adolescent brains.  
  
"All right, then," Severus said. "We need to exclude all that don't exceed 8000 meters. That's what the books are for. Let's get busy on those elevation numbers." Without another word, Sev dragged a large and dusty volume with a faded tan leather cover and began to fan through the pages, creating a breeze that riffled his hair.  
  
Gods, this is boring, James Potter thought, his eyes wandering along with his thoughts. He watched as Snape began to write the elevations in his hen- scratch scrawl, noticing the cuff of his sleeve as he did it.  
  
Red.  
  
Not official school uniform, James thought, but Dumbledore probably okayed it. Poor little Snape, trying to run with the big dogs but barely keeping up. The kid might go nutters once in a while but he was trying.  
  
With a sigh, James opened an atlas half the size of the table. He looked up at Wormtail and Padfoot making faces at him, and dropped his eyes before he cracked up. Poor Sev might think he was laughing at him, and Lily would cut him dead.  
  
"I wonder what it would be like to climb one of these," Lily sighed, pointing at a picture of a mountaintop, lovely puffy cumulus clouds drifting by at a much lower elevation.  
  
What, James' mind screamed, those nut jobs called mountaineers actually – climbed – higher – than – the – clouds? He felt sick.  
  
Severus looked at Lily, laying down his quill.  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"I was wondering the same thing."  
  
"You were, were you?" Lily returned with a smile.  
  
Oh gods of all pantheons, she's smiling at Severus Snape! Let me die!  
  
"After we do this assignment, we should take a look at some of the mountains around here and see if we could climb a few of them. Do you think we could do it for extra credit?"  
  
Lily grinned.  
  
James blinked.  
  
Snips and Lily. No. Bad Idea. Bang head against table. No, no, no. Horrors! The humanity! James hid his face in his hands.  
  
"Wait!!" Snape shrilled, stabbing at the old volume with his forefinger. "Here's the highest mountain in the Wizarding World! Mount Cotopaxi!"  
  
The Slytherin boy turned to Lily, a true warm grin on his face. "To the summit?" He pointed his quill at the ceiling with a flourish.  
  
Psyched, Lily grinned back. "To the summit!" Her own quill poked the air above their heads.  
  
James Potter's head swam. If those two aspired to summit mountains, he would be right there with them.  
  
Wasn't it lunchtime yet?  
  
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	2. Hearts of Darkness

Chapter 2 – Hearts of Darkness  
  
Young Severus Snape had enjoyed a productive study session with James Potter and Lily Evans. All three of them had completed their research for tomorrow's Magickal World class. However, the boy's good mood had only been temporary, and he now felt his thoughts take their old familiar slide into sadness. His heart ached in the excruciatingly painful way it usually did, and he had no one at hand to talk to.  
  
His roommates would roll their eyes, and he couldn't bear that. The Gryffindors would taunt him, and that would be worse. Severus thought of Lily and shook his head. She would never understand, nor could she. Her childhood memories were of holidays and parties and friends, not hideous Dark rituals conjured by monsters like his father. Neither could James, who came from a nice home with loving parents. Nobody had ever broken his arm over their knee, that was for sure.  
  
With a sigh, Sev tossed down his book bag and slumped onto a bench near the lake. He dropped his head, his lank hair obscuring the sight of the few remaining students now making their way toward the Great Hall for dinner.  
  
He knew he needed to owl Asphora LaChance, and he would once he got back to Slytherin Tower. But for now – he was alone with his memories. Even his father's elimination from his life couldn't heal him deep inside, where dark and frightening things grew.  
  
If only –  
  
If only he'd been born to someone else.  
  
If only his mother had taken him away after his babyhood "accident".  
  
If only he had learned to talk to people.  
  
If only he had run outdoors and played games instead of living a half-life trapped inside that hellhole in which he'd grown up, afraid of slamming doors and terrified of making mistakes because it would all just end in still more pain and humiliation and hurt.  
  
Without realizing it, of course, Severus had begun to cry. If he had, he would have stuffed the feelings down deep. He would have immediately smoothed his expression its usual bland and sneering neutrality, because those who hurt you always smelled the fear on you first.  
  
He didn't even feel the hand on his shoulder.  
  
Suddenly jolted out of his melancholy Sev cried out, teeth bared and dark eyebrows lowered over darker eyes. If Albus Dumbledore hadn't caught him, he would have fallen off the bench altogether.  
  
"Easy, child," the kind old man said, drawing the trembling boy close.  
  
Severus' body stiffened. The old memories hurt like knives, cutting and re- cutting the same old scar tissue. The boy's hands covered his face. He was ashamed of looking this way, of being needy, of being – human.  
  
He would be found out and punished eventually by someone other than his old man. Victims drew abusers like flies. Not flies – poisonous and hideous hornets, large and frightening wall-wasps. The kind that could sting you again and again and again. Severus curled over, forehead on his knees. Albus Dumbledore wouldn't know anything about that. He mustn't taint the Headmaster with his own damned rotten Darkness.  
  
"It's all right, my dear boy," Dumbledore said, uncurling him up and enfolding him. Old lined hands stroked tangled and knotted black hair. "You don't have to hide from me. Remember?"  
  
Sev – his sadness beyond expression -- shook his head no.  
  
The old man rocked him back and forth, very gently.  
  
Were other students looking at them? There's crazy Snape, nutters Snivellus, that ugly little snake. Albus sensed his thoughts and answered the boy deep inside his head.  
  
No child who became as lost as you is bad. No child who was cudgeled and cursed beyond the endurance of most adults is flawed. You are a jewel inside your heart. Your soul is as good and worthy as mine. I won't let you fall into the abyss. Feel my arms around you, holding you back from the edge. You won't fall, you won't be lost, and you won't be forgotten or left behind or abandoned.  
  
Not ever again.  
  
Severus' taut muscles -- screaming with tension and self-loathing – began to relax. He felt the Headmaster's healing energy slip smoothly through his battered heart, and knew he was safe.  
  
Dumbledore continued to rock him back and forth as if he was a baby. "It's all right, Severus," he said. "Calm down. Be at peace."  
  
Sev's ragged breath slowed down to little hitches before it leveled out. He opened his eyes, knowing that he was enfolded in love and acceptance. He watched the beautiful crimson and gold sun slip behind the ultramarine-blue mountains that ringed Hogwarts through his red and swollen eyes.  
  
Finally, Severus heaved a great sigh.  
  
"Thank you," he whispered. "How did you know?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, it just came to me." His thumbs slipped under the boy's dark eyes, wiping away the last of his tears. Sev raised his index finger, silently asking Albus if he could have a few moments to gather his composure. A few minutes passed, as they always do.  
  
"Better now," Severus said.  
  
"Good. I am very glad to hear it."  
  
Another deep sigh.  
  
Severus now remembered to do something Asphora LaChance had taught him. He pictured the tension in his body pouring out the ends of his fingers and dissipating into nothingness.  
  
The Headmaster smiled at him, the corners of his calm blue eyes crinkling. "Are you feeling better?"  
  
The Dark child smiled, and nodded.  
  
"Are you hungry?"  
  
Another nod.  
  
"I'm glad you are," Dumbledore said as he stood, gently pulling the boy up with him. "Rumor has it that the House Elves are serving nothing tonight but divinity fudge and pistachio ice cream."  
  
Severus grinned. He couldn't help it!  
  
Picking up his book bag, student and Headmaster trudged their way up the little hill and into the Great Hall.  
  
-------------  
  
"I am disappointed in you, Sartoris," the wizard known to his inner circle as Lord Voldemort sighed. He raised a glass of brandy, sniffed it briefly, and then drank it down. The crystal stem snapped as he slammed it on the polished marble side table. "Most disappointed."  
  
Potions Master Sejanus Sartoris was sick with fear but hid it well. "My Lord," he responded quite calmly, "I realize that I – "  
  
With a twist of his index finger, Voldemort sent the professor twisting onto the floor and watched him writhe in agony. The pain of others fascinated him. He watched Sartoris as if he were a new and exotic type of flowering plant, heretofore unknown to science.  
  
The tic-tock of the grandfather clock accompanied the man's stifled moans. The former Tom Riddle waited until blood streamed from the man's nose and mouth before he twisted his finger once again. "Get up," he whispered in a voice cold as death.  
  
Acutely embarrassed by his own weakness, Professor Sartoris righted himself and regained his seat, averting his eyes from the Dark Lord and dabbing at his face with his pocket-handkerchief.  
  
"You have been unmasked, Sartoris. You have been unmasked and upbraided by that simpering old fool Albus Dumbledore, and over a mere boy who might serve me as your successor one day – soon." Riddle darted an amused glance at Avaris Malfoy, who sat to his left enjoying his own glass of brandy. Riddle smirked, his face cruelly beautiful. "Isn't it bad enough that the whelp's father has been reduced to a gibbering idiot by the same simpering old fool, without reducing you to the ridiculous buffoon you truly are as well? Shall there be no end to my tolerance and understanding?"  
  
Sartoris knew better than to look the Dark Lord in the eye. He might well take it as some sort of challenge, and punish him accordingly.  
  
"So, let me assess the situation, Sartoris," Riddle said in a voice barely above a whisper. "The boy you were ordered to watch and train has now become Dumbledore's little pet. According to Malfoy's son here," Riddle gestured toward Avaris, "the boy has rekindled a friendship he had with two Gryffindors, one of them a mudblood. He returned from St. Mungo's positively glowing with Light energy, causing him to resent his latest forays into the Restricted Section at your behest and to reject the friendship offered by his true Slytherin friends."  
  
Sartoris began to answer. Riddle flicked his finger once again and thrust the unfortunate man across the room and into an old suit of armor, which clattered to the ground with an awful din. "Shut your ignorant mouth before I shut it permanently, Sartoris," Riddle hissed. "How dare you! Avaris? Suggestions?"  
  
"My Lord," the elder Malfoy said in his low and carefully modulated voice. "Is it possible to turn Dumbledore against the boy?"  
  
Riddle's cold gaze focused on the Potions Master. "Get up off the floor, man, and act like something other than the dancing monkey I know you to be," he chuckled. "Answer the man!"  
  
Righting himself, the professor cleared his throat. "He is already aware of young Snape's Dark training, yet he accepts him. He is already aware that he spends his nights in the Restricted Section, yet he fails to stop him. In my view, it's because it's slipped his mind. Dumbledore is powerful but Dumbledore is old. This is all to the good, I believe. Further, he is aware that the boy has tried to kill himself twice at Hogwarts and has rescued him twice, and for no other reason that I can determine other than altruism. His altruism and his trust are his greatest weaknesses, My Lord."  
  
"Interesting," Riddle said. "Of course they are. The old fool believes at the present time that you are visiting your elderly aunt. You are, in a way – and have no fear, Sartoris, I will release the Bindus spell on her and obliviate her memories before we go. Yet he cannot sense that Malfoy and I are here as well. Pitiful. He really has slipped since he took down Grindewald! Avaris – any words of advice before we go?"  
  
"If we cannot turn him against the boy, then we must see to turning the boy against Dumbledore," the white-haired and elegant old man replied in his coldly patrician manner. "It's also apparent that we must curb Young Snape's burgeoning affiliation with his so-called Gryffindor friends. The question is – how best to do it? The boy is grateful to have any friends at this point."  
  
Riddle steepled his fingers and gazed into the hearth fire. "It would be far too obvious to cause another falling-out amongst them. I might not choose at this time to eliminate them from his life; such a move would draw too much unwanted attention. However – I can punish. I most certainly can punish. Sartoris!"  
  
The Potion Master snapped alert. "My Lord?"  
  
"I want you to treat the boy in a manner perfectly within Dumbledore's edicts. As big a fool as you obviously are, I need you to continue acting as my eyes in this matter. Have Young Snape continue his lessons in the library, yet do not object if Dumbledore forbids them. I want you to keep your ears open and find a way in which we can wound the boy through his friends. Fail me again, and I will use your body fat in my scrubwoman's next batch of soap. Are my wishes clear, Sartoris?"  
  
"Eminently, My Lord."  
  
"Very well. Now get out of my sight before I decide to remove your brains through your nostrils. Good evening, then."  
  
Bowing, Professor Sartoris disapparated, reappearing in the midst of a raging thunderstorm in the middle of downtown Hogsmeade.  
  
"Bugger," he growled, jamming his hands into his pockets and making his very damp way back to Hogwarts. 


	3. Mountain Madness

Chapter 3 – Mountain Madness  
  
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St. Mungo's Hospital  
  
Children's Psychiatric Center  
  
London  
  
Confidential Communication  
  
Dear Professor Dumbledore,  
  
Hello, and how are you? I was happy to receive your owl post late last night, and wanted to start my day by responding to you.  
  
Most children who experience psychological breaks – to borrow a term from the Muggles – experience wide mood swings for an extended period of time after treatment. They have been forced to look – and some at the very first time – at issues and memories that may well terrify them beyond their emotional capacities. At the Center, we try our hardest to nurture and protect the healing child in order to minimize this impact. For many of our little patients, it is their first experience with unconditional love and attention from a caring adult. While soothing and reassuring, it can sometimes be confusing as well. When the child is reintroduced into the world outside our walls, he or she is aware that the world is different because he or she is different. Sometimes this is good – and sometimes it is not. This is why we like to keep in close contact with our young ones in the months following discharge.  
  
Severus is so fortunate to have you as his champion. What he experienced late yesterday afternoon sounds entirely appropriate for his stage of recovery. Your response to him was – as usual – right on target. You are such a wealth of goodness and intuitive wisdom that I wish I had gone to Hogwarts to have felt your positive influence earlier in my life. Mind you – Beauxbatons was fine, but it did not have A. Dumbledore as the jewel in its crown!  
  
The Obliviation Ceremonies did Severus a world of good, of course. However, he remains one of the most severely damaged children to have passed through our doors. As one who loves him and wants him to become a productive adult, I am sure that you realize that it may be impossible for Sev to live in the world on a totally self-sustaining basis. You will no doubt wish to keep a close watch on him even after his graduation from Hogwarts. If I might state it more emphatically than intended, I apologize in advance, but – you may be his only hope, Albus.  
  
I was also heartened to hear that two of the friends who took the time and care to visit him here have reconnected with him. Severus desperately needs to be a real child – one who has pals and laughter and good times – before adulthood is upon him. It is my hope that your two Gryffindor youngsters might help him to enjoy a greater measure of well-deserved happiness in his life.  
  
I look forward to seeing the two of you once again when you bring Sev to his appointment on the sixteenth. Know that you both have my love and best wishes until then.  
  
Yours,  
  
Asphora LaChance  
  
Healer/Therapist  
  
-------------  
  
Severus Snape, Lily Evans, and James Potter had become a fixture at the front table of the Hogwarts library for at least an hour each day. While two were Gryffindor and one was Slytherin and nothing would change that, the three of them came to look forward to their time together. James brought his jokes; Lily her compliments; and Severus his candy stashes (courtesy of his now mostly-absent mother) even though eating in the library was strictly forbidden.  
  
James and Sev had made their murmured apologies for their respective behaviors in the hasty and embarrassed manner so familiar to fifteen-year-old boys. Perfunctory as it was, it was sufficient to place their feet back on the path of friendship. Lily, of course, had the spontaneity and freedom to hug either boy around the neck at will, proclaiming him a valued friend. Such highly enjoyable but scarce encounters usually left them nearly breathless, transfixed with the beauty and power of Woman, desperately trying to hide their awe behind hastily-opened textbooks or spontaneous discussions about which House had the best chance at the Quidditch Cup this year.  
  
Lily and Severus' latest passion was mountaineering. There was no particular reason for it other than it was something grand and bold and totally beyond their experience. They had yet to ask their Magickal World professor, Frey Azaki, about trying one of the local summits. They still joked about ascending Mt. Cotopaxi, of course, a topic that James found utterly incomprehensible. Why would anyone want to risk his or her life and limb to go to the top of some stupid mountain?  
  
"As the Muggle George Mallory said about summiting Mt. Everest," Severus replied, wrinkling his nose with feigned disdain, "'because it's there'."  
  
"Huh?" James gaped. Lily promptly swatted him with a rolled-up parchment.  
  
"Mt. Everest is the Muggle World's highest summit," Sev continued. "Twenty-nine thousand twenty-eight feet. Roughly the cruising speed of a Muggle jet liner. Of course, our World's summit is five hundred feet higher."  
  
"Sounds like a fun trip," James remarked. He was trying to be a smartarse, but with little success. His two compatriots were Serious about such things, after all.  
  
"On the contrary," Snape whispered, lowering his head. "There is so little oxygen to breathe that a person can neither digest food nor sleep. His or her body begins to cannibalize itself."  
  
"Wick-ed!" James breathed, lowering his own head.  
  
"Not only that," Sev continued in his dry but dramatic style, "but the brain also begins to shut down, giving the climber the mental capacity of a very slow child. Which is about your speed at sea level, Potter." James snatched up Lily's parchment and cracked him on the head with it. Both boys laughed, earning them a Look from Madame Pince.  
  
"That's right," Lily added in a quieter tone, trying to mollify the riled librarian. "The climber's brain is so hypoxic that he or she can actually forget where they are. This can be really, really bad."  
  
James raised his eyebrows.  
  
"For example," the Slytherin boy added, "you have to climb on the edge of an arête, a glacial formation that is like a knife blade. If you fall off one way – you fall for over a mile and splatter yourself all over Tibet. Fall the other – and you plummet for over a mile before you make a mess all over Nepal."  
  
"Crikey," Potter breathed, genuinely intrigued by "gooshy stuff" like this, as did most boys his age. "Is there anything else creepy about it?"  
  
At this, Lily and Sev almost simultaneously turned to face one another, their arms resting on the other's sleeve. "Creepy?" Lily replied in a knowing voice.  
  
"Shall we tell him about the – bodies?"   
  
"Oh, by all means!"  
  
"You or me?"  
  
"You, Sev. I finished breakfast later than you."  
  
James grinned, sliding his glasses down his nose to stare at Snape eyeball-to-eyeball in rapt attention. "Oh, do tell!"  
  
"Well," said Snape, "if you die up there, nobody else has the energy to bring you back down. In – other – words – "He hesitated, darting a sideways glance at Lily.  
  
"Oh, stop fooling around and tell me, Snape!" James hissed, fists balled in mock anger.  
  
"– The route to the summit is marked – by – CORPSES."  
  
"NO SIR!" James yelped.  
  
"Sir! As you climb, you see people to your right and left who may have died five – ten – twenty – even thirty or forty years ago. They're still there – frozen to the mountainside!"  
  
"Urg!"  
  
"Hush!" shrilled Madame Pince.  
  
"They found George Mallory in 1999," Lily added.  
  
"That dumb Muggle git who said that twaddle about the mountain being there, or summat? So what?"  
  
"He fell to his death in 1924."  
  
"TOO COOL!" James shouted. All three children began to laugh in spite of themselves.   
  
"THAT IS ENOUGH!" Madame Pince shrieked, slamming down the book she was holding. "OUT! NOW!"  
  
Desperately scrabbling to gather their belongings, the trio moved as one toward the doors, hoots of laughter bouncing off the library walls, and then spilled out into the corridor where they laughed until they collapsed.  
  
"Having fun, kids?" Professor Azaki said, a droll smirk on his face. "Class in ten minutes." He strode down the hallway.  
  
Severus broke into another fit of laughter.  
  
"Why were you just laughing at our teacher?" Lily asked.  
  
"I wasn't. I was just picturing how Madame Pince would look frozen to the side of Mt. Everest."  
  
------------  
  
"The Muggle World has its Seven Summits," the Magickal World professor said, beginning his lecture promptly on time. "The highest is Mt. Everest, of course. I have collected your parchments and will see how you all did in ranking the Magickal World's highest peaks. Mr. Snape. What is the highest mountain in our World?"  
  
"Mt. Cotopaxi, sir."  
  
"That is correct. Now, is this identical to the Muggle peak by the same name?"  
  
"No, sir. That Mt. Cotopaxi is a rather ordinary volcano in Ecuador. Our summit was discovered and climbed by the wizard mountaineer Eduardo de Cacahuete in 1877. To differentiate the two, he called ours "Cotopaxi Major".   
  
"Is that why they call you 'Greaseball Major'?" hissed Sirius Black, seated two rows behind Severus.   
  
Lily kicked him in the kneecap.   
  
"Ouch, Evans!"  
  
"Mr. Black?" Professor Azaki intoned, folding his arms. "Kindly recite the seven highest summits in our World."  
  
"Um – "Sirius grinned. "Well, the highest is Cotopaxi!"  
  
"You great witless lump of bat dung," Snape hissed.  
  
"Shut up, Psycho Boy."  
  
Severus whipped his wand out of his sleeve and rounded, his dark eyes cold as chips of black ice.  
  
"That will be all, gentlemen! Mr. Snape, kindly put your wand away. Mr. Black, kindly turn in a parchment at least two feet in length telling me in detail why you were not prepared for today's class. On my desk by eight o'clock tomorrow morning, please. Now. As you know, both the incantation and effect of spells changes at altitude, sometimes in unexplained ways. For example – "  
  
-----------  
  
Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew lay in wait for Severus as he came down from Slytherin Tower later that day. Waylaying him in the deserted corridor and dragging him into a vacant classroom, Pettigrew pinned him while Black poked at him with his wand.  
  
"Getting a bit uppity, aren't ya, Snivelly?" the handsome youth growled. "Think you're on the same level as we Gryffindors! In fact, you've been bothering my friends Evans and Potter lately, and I want it to stop."  
  
"I'm – not – bothering – them – "Snape snarled back. Pettigrew grabbed his face and squeezed it hard. "Get – off – me!"  
  
"Or what, Snivellus? Will you cut your wrists and bleed on us? Or maybe drink a bottle of aconite and barf your guts on us? You worthless disgusting git! They only feel sorry for you, you know. Frankly, I wish you had smoked yourself. One less filthy piece of Dark wizard trash to look at every day!"  
  
Severus promptly spat in Black's face.   
  
Black promptly beat him up.  
  
---------  
  
"None of this matters, Sillyass Black," Snape moaned, getting up off the floor. "They're my friends and there's nothing you can do about it. Go piss up a rope."  
  
"What is this, gentlemen?" yelped Professor McGonagall, rounding the corner. "Been fighting again? Disgraceful! Mr. Black and Mr. Pettigrew! To my office! Mr. Snape! To the Hospital Wing! At once!" Digging her forefingers into the shoulders of the two Gryffindors (which hurt quite a bit, actually), she steered them out and away.  
  
Severus snuffled up blood. There was no way he was going back to the Hospital Wing. He had been at St. Mungo's, after all. "I don't need all that fussing," he growled to no one in particular.  
  
"It's lit-tle Snivelly Snape drip-drip-dripping blood all over the place!" wailed Peeves, sailing upside-down toward the Slytherin student. "Because Big Bad Black smacked him right in his ug-ly lit-tle face!"  
  
"Piss up a rope, Peeves," Severus replied coldly. Disgusted, he shouldered his book bag and stomped down the corridor, trying not to be late to his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. 


	4. Term's End

Chapter 4 – Term's End  
  
The months passed, and winter blended into spring.  
  
Severus Snape was caught up in all his classes. He voraciously read about mountaineering and played rock and pebble Quidditch with James Potter, even showing off a bit for Lily. He felt healthy for the first time in his life and had even put on a bit of muscle. He smiled more and cried less.  
  
The broom practice he enjoyed at the Sunny Meadow had paid off, for Sev had become somewhat of a daredevil. He and James would plummet straight down accompanied by Lily's shrieks to be careful; Potter always pulled up and away first. The one time Sev did hit the ground, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew had been there to laugh at him (Remus Lupin was there too but had said nothing). James told his Marauder friends to shut the hell up and asked Lupin to help him get Sev to the Hospital Wing, which he did gladly. Luckily, the biggest injury was to the Slytherin's pride.  
  
During the last few months of school, Severus also saw Asphora LaChance, Sibelius Hammer, and Aloysius Bede when Headmaster Dumbledore took him back to St. Mungo's for follow-up care. They talked about things like Sev's anger with his parents and his own jealousy and resentment of Sirius Black. It wasn't fun at all. It was gut churning and miserable and made Severus cry a lot, but it was necessary.  
  
Severus did remember to use some of the "tools" the three healers had given him. One he liked best was "stay in the day". This meant that he shouldn't worry about all his tomorrows.  
  
Aloysius had also taught him a trick to use when feeling jealous. "When you're awake in the middle of the night burning with resentment against Sirius Black or whoever has offended you, they are most assuredly at home in bed enjoying a sound sleep! They certainly aren't lying awake worrying about you, now, are they?"  
  
Severus had shaken his head. "So the only one I've hurt is myself, really."  
  
"That's right. So – next time you find yourself stewing in resentment, Sev, just roll over and go back to sleep!"  
  
Asphora had taught him the piece of advice that helped Severus most of all. "A mistake isn't a sin, Sev," she had told him. "You are a human being. Human beings make mistakes all the time, and it's all right. You don't have to be perfect, honey!"  
  
Sev had blinked hard at this. His entire life had been a quest to be perfect so his father wouldn't beat him or his classmates wouldn't make fun of him. "But do you know something, Shonsey?" he had asked. "Even when I thought I was perfect, my father would find a reason to hit me anyway. Why did he do that?"  
  
The healer had sighed. "Some people are just mean and rotten and evil, honey," she had told him. "Some enjoy hurting other people and they don't feel bad about it. I think your father was one of those people. I'm so glad we were able to stop him."  
  
Sev had nodded solemnly.  
  
"Remember, baby, it wasn't you. You weren't the bad one. You weren't the one who made so many terrible choices. You did the very best you could under those awful circumstances. Now that you are free of him, work on your own self-reliance. You are no longer a victim. You don't have to cower before anyone anymore, Sev. If someone hurts you today, you can deal with it. Of course, you can find a way to do that without breaking every school rule in existence!"  
  
Sev had grinned. "Yes, Shonsey!"  
  
Severus also spent a portion of every day with his guardian. Albus Dumbledore always had tea and a little plate of divinity fudge waiting for him. It was all very informal; Sev would tell the Headmaster how his day had gone and how he had felt about things that had happened. Dumbledore, in turn, would give him a bit of advice (if he asked for it) and always gave the Dark child a warm and healing hug.  
  
They both enjoyed their few minutes together, knowing that the other person loved them and wished them well. This was all to the good and helped rebuild Sev's tattered self-esteem. It also soothed Dumbledore's own loneliness. In his old age, Albus' decision not to have created a family of his own weighed heavily upon him. Severus couldn't have been dearer to him as if he had been the wizard's own flesh and blood.  
  
-----------  
  
Immediately after his exams were finished, Sirius Black summoned one of Gryffindor Tower's house elves.  
  
"Yessum and what can I do for young mister?" the elf – a little mite known as Maddie Jane - asked.  
  
"I want you to bring me Severus Snape's clean laundry, if you would. He's in Slytherin. I've been cross to him and want to make it up to him. So, I'll bring the clean clothes to him as a gesture of good will. Do you understand?" Black gave the elf his dazzling and perfect smile.  
  
Of course, the elf grinned back at him, and within twenty minutes the pile of laundry had appeared upon Sirius Black's bed. He rooted through it impatiently. He had no wish to go through the Slytherin brat's underclothes and socks.  
  
Within seconds, he found what he had been looking for.  
  
----------  
  
Severus returned to his bedroom to change clothes and then go study until dinner. "Aha, my laundry," he murmured. "When did this arrive?"  
  
"Dunno. Wasn't here. Now, hush -- I'm trying to remember the seven levels of Hell," said Evan Ryper.  
  
"Studying Dante?"  
  
"Yeah. 'Muggle Art and Literature'. I've been bored to tears all term."  
  
"I think Dante Alighieri was one of us," Sev commented. "He knew too much!" Chuckling, he sorted through his pile of laundry.  
  
Suddenly, he froze.  
  
There was his red sweater, or what remained of it.  
  
Someone had taken a sharp object and ripped it apart.  
  
"What's wrong, Snips?" Evan asked.  
  
His voice quavered. "Somebody trashed my special sweater and I think I know who did it."  
  
"Um, let me guess. One of those nasty Gryffindor prats who've been bothering you since you arrived at this place."  
  
"Right." Sev's chin quivered and tears ran down his cheeks. He turned away to face the window next to his bed so his roommate wouldn't see them. "Sirius Black, I'll wager. Black name for a black heart. We'll just see how black I can make his eyes."  
  
Evan turned to him, concerned. Snips' voice wasn't usually this cold and his speech wasn't usually this clipped and precise. "What are you thinking?" he asked.  
  
"Never mind, Ryper," Severus said, blinking away his tears and holding the tattered remains of his beautiful Yuletide sweater. Making sure his wand was in his robes, he stuffed the red yarn chunks into his pocket. "No more victim. No more cowering. I am going to find Sirius Black and when I do, I intend to blast him into Kingdom Come."  
  
Evan stood. "Sev, you can't. You know you can't. No magic here, and certainly no Dark magic. Dumbledore would freak!"  
  
"Dumbledore understands," Snape growled. "Potter told me that all the Marauders had promised not to prank me at least until the term is over. Well, I have one more exam, Evan, and when it's taken tomorrow, the term will be over."  
  
He strode out the door without another word.  
  
---------  
  
It was dinner time in the Great Hall, and the students were enjoying fresh corn on the cob, buttered snap beans, barbecued brisket, swordfish fillets, mashed potatoes, fried potatoes, and potatoes au gratin. They set to, chatting away to one another when their mouths weren't full. It was into this setting that Severus Snape – figuratively loaded for bear – entered.  
  
"Sirius Black!" he shouted, facing the Gryffindor table. "Outside!"  
  
Black looked up. James Potter, sitting to his right, said, "What've you done now, Padfoot? Did you beat him up again?"  
  
"Nah. I – "Sirius remembered that Potter's mother had given Severus the destroyed sweater, and bit his tongue.  
  
"BLACK!" Severus shrieked. "OUTSIDE! WE HAVE BUSINESS TO SETTLE!"  
  
Every student's eyes were upon him. Black immediately went on the offensive.  
  
"Oh my gods, Snivelly! Been huffing potions again? Sit down and stop bothering these people." He actually turned and ate a mouthful of brisket. Severus twitched his wand, levitating Sirius, who shrieked in protest.  
  
Dumbledore – at the Head Table and very much aware of the situation – rose. "Severus, it's all right. Come in and eat, won't you?"  
  
"I can't, Headmaster," Sev replied, levitating the student toward the exit. "Necessary business. Sorry to have bothered you all. Carry on!"  
  
A wildly cursing Sirius Black floated to the outside, and the Slytherin slammed the great double doors behind them.  
  
Sev turned to Black. "You. Destroyed. My. Sweater."  
  
Sirius laughed, showing his perfect teeth. "Whoops, sorry about that, Snots. It just got a bit tangled, you see."  
  
The Slytherin boy hit him with the expelliarmus spell, seizing his wand, and then threw multiple hexes.  
  
The first made Black's long and shiny dark hair curl into ringlets.  
  
The second replaced his school uniform with a silvery spangled tutu.  
  
The third put his feet in pink toe shoes.  
  
"Go inside and show them how talented you are, you nasty piece of Gryffindor crap. Tarantallegra!"  
  
The doors burst open, Dumbledore and James Potter at the forefront. Black shot in between them, his long legs forced into multiple grand jetes.  
  
Everyone began to laugh.  
  
"I am the Queen of England," Sirius Black sang in a grating falsetto. "I love to sing and dance/ And if you don't adore me/ I'll kick you in the pants!" He then pirouetted his way past the Gryffindor table, wailing "O Fortuna Velut Luna" from Carl Orff's Carmina Burana.  
  
"Severus, what are you up to?" Dumbledore whispered.  
  
Turning to Potter, Sev said, "Black destroyed my red sweater, Headmaster. He took it and tore it to shreds. See?" He shoved his hand into his pocket and brought out the handful of tatters. "He destroyed my favorite lucky sweater, and I am not going to take it any more!"  
  
Dumbledore exchanged glances with James. "I will give you exactly thirty more seconds, Severus, and then it must stop. Agreed?"  
  
"Agreed," the boy said, turning his gaze indoors to the frantically dancing six-footer, now singing an opera melody.  
  
"Tor-ee-a-dor-a/Don't spit on the floor-a/Use the cuspidor-a/What do you think it's for-a?"  
  
Snape grinned. "Hey Black! Let me see ten more tour jetes, followed by sixteen chaine turns!"  
  
Black began flinging himself into the air, eyes round and legs beating the air. His humiliation was complete when he looked into the eyes of several young ladies upon which he was sweet, and noted that they were laughing themselves sick.  
  
"All right then, Sneerius," Severus shouted. "Your performance was exquisite. Let's hear it for Sillyass Black!" Without hesitation, the assembled student body broke into applause and laughter. Still unable to move on his own, Black looked down and shrieked.  
  
"Well, that's it, then," Severus said, looking up at Headmaster Dumbledore. "I could have blasted his soul to oblivion, but I would like to eventually graduate from this institution."  
  
"I'm proud of you, son. Frankly, I'm surprised that you didn't turn him into a pillar of salt."  
  
"Not a bad idea, Headmaster!"  
  
"Don't you dare, child!"  
  
James noticed that Severus clutched the mess of tattered yarn to his chest. He extended his arm, patting the boy's shoulder. "Good on you, Snape," he said. "About time you fought back."  
  
"Never knew how," Sev returned. "Never thought I was worth it." He twitched his wand, restoring Black (now retching miserably over an empty soup tureen) to his original garments.  
  
"You realize I have to deduct 20 points from Slytherin, don't you?" said Dumbledore.  
  
"Yes, sir. It's worth every single point."  
  
"It also seems that Mr. Black has lost 20 points for Gryffindor because he broke his promise not to prank you until the term ends, which it has not."  
  
"Stupid git," Sev murmured. "Jumped the gun."  
  
"Now, Severus," the Headmaster chided.  
  
----------  
  
James and Lily and Severus all made their goodbyes (with Lily's tearful admonition that it was only farewell for a few months and not a true goodbye). James invited Sev for two weeks of Pig Cakes and Quidditch; Sev agreed and promised that he would brew Mrs. Potter some of his special "All- Clean Solution", guaranteed to get rid of any household or clothing stain. Lily promised to stay in touch with both young gentlemen.  
  
So much confusion and suffering this past year. Sev's head spun just thinking about it.  
  
He liked to think that he had made it through the Darkness and into the Light. He also liked to believe that he would be happier next term, and that he and James and Lily would remain friends. Professor Azaki (who was off to climb Mt. Fujiyama – again) had promised to teach them wizard mountaineering in the fall.  
  
Lucius Malfoy had also invited Sev for a visit to Malfoy Manor, promising to introduce him to some friends who would appreciate him.  
  
Who knows, Sev thought to himself.  
  
I might end up with more new friends than I know what to do with.  
  
--------- 


	5. Summer Fun in the Summer Sun

Chapter 5 – Summer Fun in the Summer Sun  
  
Severus Snape visited James Potter's home for two glorious weeks in July. During that time, Lily often flooed into Charlesgate and the three of them played rock-and-pebble Quidditch until they were exhausted. Mr. or Mrs. Potter watched over their two visitors as they would their own, and both sixteen-year-olds blossomed with such love and attention.  
  
Sev found that Shonsey's little "tricks" to help him lead a more comfortable life really worked. She had taught him to "walk through" his fear; consequently, when a new situation arose about which Sev felt apprehensive; all he had to do was take a deep breath and step into it, so to speak. And then – he should just do "the next best thing". When put into such simple terms, living a life around people began getting a bit easier.  
  
Severus did have a few bad days; nightmares frequently woke him screaming in the night. That must have terrified the Potters but they never shamed him for it. Instead, Mrs. Potter would gather the thin boy in her arms and rock him, as Albus Dumbledore had when fear oozed through the boy's very pores. James didn't seem to mind either, which helped.  
  
One morning, Sev and James dragged themselves down the stairs to eat breakfast.  
  
"Oh, good! It's pancakes again," Sev cried. "Sugar junkies unite!"  
  
"You're the only person I know who so drenches his pancakes with syrup that they float," James said.  
  
"I love when they fall apart!"  
  
Mrs. Potter laughed, and handed Severus a wrapped package before they dug in.  
  
"What's this, Mrs. P?" the Slytherin boy asked.  
  
"Well, go on and open it, then!" James said in fake-annoyance. He got up and started rummaging through the refrigerator to see if there was anything else there that needed eating.  
  
Sev opened it. Immediately his dark eyes flooded with tears.  
  
"Seven hells, Mum, what did you do to him?"  
  
"Nothing," Severus whispered. "Noth-ing...."  
  
He held up a new red sweater.  
  
"Now, this one I knit just for you, Severus," Mrs. P declared. "If anyone tries to destroy it, it will turn into something quite nasty and defend itself. It's nice and lightweight which means you can wear it for the autumn and spring as well."  
  
Severus hesitantly turned to her.  
  
"Give me a hug, you!" she said, holding out her arms.  
  
"Thank you so much!" the boy said, falling into the kind woman's arms. "I'll take such good care of it!"  
  
"I know you will, Severus," she said, returning his hug. "Now, make sure you don't let those pancakes soak up all the syrup..."  
  
"But that's how he likes them, Mum," James grinned. "All mushy and full of syrup. Gah."  
  
"To each his own, Potter," Sev replied, jamming a limp forkful into his mouth. "Oh, this is way too good!"  
  
James and his mother looked on as the Slytherin devoured an entire short stack in less than three minutes.  
  
"Now you've done it, Mum," James joked.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Now he's on a sugar high. He'll play Quidditch until I'm too exhausted to hold onto the broom."  
  
"Well, why don't you eat your breakfast, Jimmie dear, and get dressed. Lily is coming over at ten o'clock."  
  
The boys looked at the clock. It was nearly ten.  
  
"Gods!" both shrieked, looking down at their sloppy t-shirts and flannel pajama pants.  
  
"Shovel it in, Potter!"  
  
"Mrrrfffmmgwpppp," the Gryffindor replied. "I dare you to pick up the plate and drink the syrup!"  
  
"You're on!" cried Sev, tipping the plate above him and sticking out his tongue. James jiggled his arm, splashing syrup onto Snape's forehead.  
  
"Dead! Dead! You're DEAD, Potter!" Severus mock-growled, wiping his hands across his forehead and smearing it onto the top of James' head.  
  
"Must you play with your food, boys?" Mr. Potter laughed. He had just come downstairs himself and was ready for work.  
  
"Of course we must," James said. "We love smearing food all over the walls."  
  
"And don't forget the floor, and one another," Sev added, arranging James' sticky hair so that it stood on end in a bizarre corona. "Looks like your normal hairdo, Potter."  
  
"Hey, Snape, when you fell down the Annoying Tree, how many branches did you break on the way down?"  
  
Hey, Potter, did you get off the train at StupidGitville this morning?"  
  
There was a knock at the door. Both syrup-smeared and grungy boys gasped as one.  
  
Oh gods! It was Lily!!  
  
Both raced from the room, whooping about who would get to the bathroom first.  
  
From the clamor of shouts and the thundering of adolescent feet, James' parents surmised that the Slytherin boy won.  
  
------------  
  
Lily and Severus took the Wizard's Oath the next day.  
  
"My House shall honor your House  
  
For ever and ever without break or decay.  
  
When the hills are all flat  
  
And the rivers are all dry,  
  
When it lightens and thunders in winter,  
  
When it rains and snows in summer,  
  
When Heaven and Earth mingle--  
  
Not till then will I dishonor your House.  
  
So Mote It Be."  
  
Lily also pledged with James, so that all three of them became each other's safety net. The words were simple but the import was not. The Oath did not promise as much as eternal friendship as forbearance. It also bound the students to help each other's families, extant or future. All this seriousness, of course, had to be relieved by doing something silly. Luckily, James Potter had been thinking ahead for such an occasion.  
  
"You want silly, Lily? You got silly!" James announced, ushering them into the Potter kitchen. The table was covered with a white oilcloth, and sitting on top weren't one – but two – chocolate cakes.  
  
"PIG CAKE CONTEST! SEE WHO EATS THE MOST IN FIVE MINUTES! HANDS WILL BE TIED BEHIND BACKS! ONLY THE BIGGEST MOUTH WILL TASTE VICTORY!" James shrieked.  
  
"Oh gods, Jimmie," Mrs. Potter said. "My poor kitchen!"  
  
"We promise to clean it all up," Severus replied.  
  
Lily was laughing too hard to respond.  
  
"WHO WILL ACCEPT MY CHALLENGE?" James hollered.  
  
Severus immediately demurred with a smile. He had a delicate stomach thanks to all the Dark curses his father had thrown at him over the years. And frankly, he did not want his hands tied behind his back. That brought up some pretty nasty memories he'd just as soon forget forever.  
  
James looked at Lily. "Well, Redheaded Goddess?"  
  
"Hells, YES!" she shouted. "Sev? Do the honors and tie our hands behind us. Mrs. Potter, we will begin on your signal!"  
  
The two bustled around, readying the two competitors for the task ahead.  
  
"All right then?" Mrs. P asked.  
  
Both James and Lily nodded.  
  
"GO!" Mrs. P cried, watching the clock.  
  
To watch James Potter dig into a three-layer chocolate cake with nothing but his mouth was a sight to behold. Within moments, his facial features were totally obscured with icing. Lily made a respectable start, woofing down hunks of mashed cake and icing. She didn't want to take the time, but she wanted to remember later to tell Mrs. P that the cake was marvelous.  
  
Severus laughed like an idiot; Mrs. P went for her Brownie Starflash and snapped pictures.  
  
The time sped by, both contestants eyebrow-deep in cake, their jaws working furiously.  
  
"Ten seconds!" Mrs. Potter announced.  
  
The whites of the contestants' eyes were the only thing that wasn't covered in brown goo.  
  
"STOP!"  
  
Sev ran over, handing both Lily and James a bath towel. They tried their best to at least wipe the cake away sufficiently to breathe and see.  
  
Mrs. Potter surveyed the remains. "As much as I hate to tell this to my own son – I declare Lily the winner!"  
  
"Arrghh!" James shrieked, knees bent, crouching. "Beaten by a girl!"  
  
Lily laughed and clapped her hands. "Victory!" she cried. "I triumph!" She pulled Snape into a hug. His eyes went wide.  
  
James' eyes went wide as well. "Hey Snape!" he growled with faux-menace. "Unhand the champion!"  
  
"Eat worms," the Slytherin grinned, enjoying the hug immensely.''  
  
Lily laughed, and then stepped back. "I have a hug for you too, you great monkey."  
  
At this, James began to whoop, practically flying to her side. She wrapped him in her arms. He pretended to melt into them. "Ohhh, goood hug, goooooood hug!"  
  
They stayed in that position a bit longer than either expected. Finally breaking away, they gave one another an embarrassed smile.  
  
"The least you can do is invite me to the wedding," Severus said, only halfway joking.  
  
-------------  
  
Severus spent the first two weeks in August at Malfoy Manor, teaching the other seventh-years and recent graduates what he knew about Dark potion making. Lucius' father Avaris treated him with courtly dignity, and his daughter Caesonia – who was a year younger than Severus – pampered and flattered him. At Lord Voldemort's request, she went to Durmstrang since she was even Darker than her brother Lucius.  
  
A lovely blonde, Caesonia went on and on about Sev's gorgeous black eyes and the curves of his mouth. This was very confusing to Severus. As little as he understood the Dance of Social Exchange, he knew even less about the Dance of Flirtation and Seduction. As a result, when Caesonia backed him into corners, his fears overtook his common sense and he did everything he could to get away.  
  
She even went so far as to sneak into his bedroom one night.  
  
Surprising a touch-phobic boy and jolting him out of sleep was the wrong thing to do. Instead of welcoming her, he shrieked and pushed her away. With a hiss of rage, Caesonia heard footsteps out in the corridor and slid into a nearby wardrobe.  
  
"Is everything all right?" Lucius' mother Plancina asked.  
  
"Yes ma'am," Severus said, shaken. "I just had a dream. My apologies for waking you."  
  
"No problem," she said. "Pleasant dreams." The door closed.  
  
Severus sat up in bed and sighed. "You can come out now."  
  
The girl slid from the wardrobe and stood there in her nightgown, the moonlight shining on her golden head. "Do you want me?" she said.  
  
"I'm sorry, Caesonia, but you startled me. You're quite lovely but I'm just not ready for such things. I hope you understand."  
  
The girl's pretty mouth curved into a scowl. "Well, it stands to reason. After all, you tried to kill yourself and got shipped off to St. Mungo's. I should have known you'd freeze, you stupid boy. Either that, or you like guys instead."  
  
"I do not!" Severus shrieked in outrage. "Get out!"  
  
She stuck out her tongue and whirled around, striding to the door in a few quick steps. "Fine. You're not much to look at, frankly. I just thought you fancied me and wanted to play." With a knowing sneer, she slipped out the door, only to run into her father standing directly outside Sev's room.  
  
Severus chuckled as he listened to the two of them arguing. He learned a few new swear words that night.  
  
Fine, let them argue.  
  
Just leave me be, please.  
  
--------------  
  
Severus spent time in August at Professor Sartoris' house working on his potions skills. Oddly enough, Albus Dumbledore had not forbidden this. Sartoris chalked it up to the Headmaster's extreme old age and thought nothing more about it.  
  
"The old dolt has probably forgotten all about my dressing-down," the Potions Master grumbled. "Here, Severus. Try this powdered Moa bone instead of that tincture of Diatryma blood."  
  
He did not bother to share with the boy the fact that any correspondence from Britomartis Vox vanished immediately upon approaching the Castle. Similarly, any messages from Severus disintegrated long before they reached their destination in France. It resulted in some very confused owls and two broken hearts.  
  
Well, what of it, Sartoris thought, stirring a cauldron of enervation fluid. What the lad didn't know wouldn't hurt him.  
  
------------- 


	6. Detours and High Places

Chapter 6 – Detours and High Places  
  
----------------------------  
  
URGENT OWL POST  
  
Headmaster A. Dumbledore Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
Dear Headmaster Dumbledore:  
  
This is to advise you that Severus Snape has been returned to St. Mungo's. As you may already know, Severus has spent time with me this summer learning more about potions. Apparently, he encountered a piece of furniture here that frightened him. He did quite a bit of damage before I was able to calm him.  
  
He is stable and doing well at this time.  
  
Obviously, I am anxious to speak with you about this. I will be at my manor house should you wish to visit and I will tell you what I know.  
  
Yours, Sejanus Sartoris Potions Master  
  
--------------------------------------  
  
To state that Albus Dumbledore reacted negatively to this missive would have been the understatement of the century. It was a good thing that the small and rather timid Saw-Whet Owl who delivered the letter had chosen to hide under a chair. Otherwise, it might have been swept up into the five- mile-high tower of thunderheads that suddenly burbled up in the disturbed air directly above the Headmaster's person.  
  
Argus Filch, Rubeus Hagrid, four faculty members, and at least two dozen House Elves beat tracks to the Headmaster's Office. The squall line over that portion of the Castle was already starting to produce thunder, lightning, high winds, hail, torrential rain, and a few dangling (though thankfully puny) tornadoes.  
  
"Great Merlin, Albus! What is it?" Minerva McGonagall shrieked, opening the Headmaster's office door.  
  
She was stunned to see absolute and unbridled rage on the old wizard's face. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, although that was most likely electrical energy being stored up for the next jolt of lightning. Dumbledore stood in front of his desk, the parchment clutched in his fist, hyperventilating and swearing in Chaucerian English.  
  
"Easy, Headmaster!" cried Poppy Pomfrey, casting a soothing charm over the irate man. "Easy, if you please!" Most of the assembled House Elves ran away shrieking.  
  
"Albus!" cried Professor Penderdandis. "Calm yourself!"  
  
"READ IT!" Dumbledore cried, thrusting the crumpled parchment under the esteemed teacher's rather long nose. He looked like Moses, about ready to mow down the infidels with a couple of slabs of marble tablet. Gingerly, Minerva minced her way under his arm and snatched the letter away.  
  
"Oh my goodness," she murmured as the other teachers crowded round to read it.  
  
"He -- hurt -- my -- child -- " Albus snarled. "He -- hurt -- "  
  
"Easy now," Poppy said again, easing the old man over to a nearby chair. "Sit down and calm yourself. Please."  
  
"Albus," Minerva said in what she earnestly hoped was a soothing tone of voice, "it says right here that Severus is doing well."  
  
"Snap -- the -- old -- monster's -- neck -- for -- him -- "  
  
"I don't think so, Albus," Penderdandis sighed, patting the now-seated man's shoulder. "Once you calm down, Minerva and I would be happy to floo with you to St. Mungo's. Does that sound like a good plan?" If his words weren't getting through, perhaps dumb show would suffice. He bobbed his head up and down at Dumbledore to signify that this would be a good thing.  
  
"Breathe in -- breathe out -- " Poppy chanted.  
  
The anvil clouds above the school began to dissipate. The shrieking winds died down. Fawkes the Phoenix pecked morosely at a hailstone that had landed in his water bowl.  
  
"I'm -- all right," Dumbledore said at last.  
  
"Sir, would you likeum usses to get Perfesser Sartoris for youse?" one of the few remaining House Elves asked.  
  
"Professor Sartoris can go to the devil, if he hasn't made the trip already," Albus Dumbledore growled, his voice not unlike the booming claps of thunder that preceded it.  
  
"And if he doesn't know the way, kindly give him directions," Minerva McGonagall added, scooping up a handful of floo powder and pushing both elderly men before her into the fireplace. Then -- poof!  
  
They were gone.  
  
"It won't be an easy job to clean up this mess," growled Argus Filch, trying to rub a lightning-strike scorch mark from the dark oak wainscoting that ringed the room. "Come on, Mrs. Norris."  
  
The animagus purred and eeled her way around the caretaker's ankles.  
  
--------------  
  
Albus and his two colleagues hardly broke stride when they burste through the floo portal at St. Mungo's Hospital. "Wait a moment, please!" the wizard tending the front desk sputtered indignantly, getting up and racing after them.  
  
"Hurry," Albus Dumbledore cried. "We might be able to outrun him. This way!"  
  
Minerva whirled around, pointing her wand at the gentleman. "I wouldn't," she said, giving him such a schoolteacherly scowl that the wizard stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
"St. Bartholomew Prep School flashback," the man whispered.  
  
"Now there, you, boy!" McGonagall snapped. "Back to your Charms class, straight away! Off with you!"  
  
Wordlessly, the middle-aged man turned and wandered off.  
  
"Once a teacher, always a teacher," Minerva whispered to herself, stifling the urge to giggle hysterically. "I'm right behind you, Albus," she cried, easing right behind in Dumbledore's magical slipstream.  
  
----------------  
  
Of course, Albus knew exactly where Severus would be. He and the two other teachers burst into what was sometimes called the Kiddie Snuff Ward.  
  
"Severus?" he cried, looking all around him.  
  
Asphora LaChance was immediately at his elbow. "Albus," she said. "I'm right here!"  
  
He stopped and turned. "Oh, bless you, Asphora! Where is he?"  
  
"We have him in his own room, right down the hall. He's sleeping now, but I'm sure he'd be delighted to see all three of you." She introduced herself to Professor McGonagall ("Ah – lovely aura," the healer whispered) and all four entered a small room at the end of the hall.  
  
The room was thick with soothing energy that curled and spiraled through the room in ceaseless convection currents. They rose and fell, caressing the young man asleep in the bed.  
  
"What happened to him, Asphora?" Albus whispered, not wishing to disturb his Dark child's rest.  
  
"From what Professor Sartoris told me, Severus was walking down one of the ground floor hallways when he saw what the Muggles used to call an "Iron Maiden".  
  
All three Hogwarts teachers frowned. An Iron Maiden was sort of like a hinged Egyptian sarcophagus that opened to reveal spikes of various lengths. Once part of any Dark inquisitor's arsenal of torture equipment, a person could be placed into it and the lid closed, piercing the occupant and causing great pain and terror.  
  
"What in the name of Seven Hells was he doing with one of those in his house?" Professor Penderdandis hissed.  
  
"It was some old relic from one of the Sartoris ancestors. He used it as a furniture piece in his hallway," Healer LaChance replied. "It didn't even have any spikes in it. But the mere sight of it set Sev off. Apparently, he proceeded to trash the downstairs quite thoroughly before the girl got her great-grandfather up from the Potions Lab."  
  
"Good for Severus," Minerva sniffed. "I'd personally like to trash that old goat's laboratory as well as the house proper."  
  
"I don't understand," Dumbledore whispered. "I thought all those memories had been obliviated."  
  
"Many of them had been, Albus," Asphora replied. "It's obvious that we needed to do additional work. I took the risk of assuming you'd agree with us, and we performed another Obliviation Ceremony on him earlier today. As his guardian, you would have had the right to stop me."  
  
"But you correctly surmised that I wouldn't," Albus sighed, patting the young woman on the shoulder. "Thank you. Well done. When do you think he might be able to come home, Shonsey?"  
  
"You can take him later today if he seems otherwise well," the healer replied. "You, Albus Dumbledore yourself, can take him back to Hogwarts, that is. No side trips here, there, and elsewhere." She turned her fluffy head toward Penderdandis and McGonagall. "Might I speak alone with the Headmaster, please?" she asked with a kind smile.  
  
"Certainly," both teachers said, and withdrew to the hallway.  
  
"Sev's aura is all run through with tendrils of unreflective blackness, Albus," Asphora whispered. "I was quite alarmed when I saw them. Wherever he was this summer pushed him further away from the Light. I'm not intending to tell you your business, but -- "  
  
"Then that's fine," Dumbledore replied, cutting her words off courteously yet firmly. "I will keep him safe with me until the new term begins."  
  
"Will you fire Professor Sartoris?" she asked.  
  
"I'm considering my -- options," he answered.  
  
"Shonsey?" Severus whispered, rubbing his eyes. For a few confused moments the boy lay there, unsure of where he was and why.  
  
"My dear child!" Albus breathed.  
  
"Father!" Severus shrieked, bounding out of bed so fast that his ankle became entangled in the quilt. If Dumbledore hadn't moved quite so fast, the boy would have landed on his face.  
  
Albus caught him in a tight embrace. "My poor Severus!" the old man said, close to tears. "I'm so sorry this happened."  
  
"It wasn't your fault," the boy whispered in his ear, his long fingers entwined in the old man's velvet robes. "It was mine. I shouldn't have gone off like that. I'll bet Professor Sartoris is really mad at me for wrecking his hallway."  
  
"A broken vase or smashed glass doesn't matter, but you do, honey," Asphora replied, placing her hands on both sides of his head. "We tried a bit more obliviation earlier today. How are you feeling now?"  
  
Still enfolded in the Headmaster's arms, the Dark child thought for a moment, and then answered. "I feel -- better. Please, can I go home?"  
  
It took Healer LaChance a few moments to realize that Severus meant Hogwarts School. "Why don't you stay here for a few more hours, Sev, and then I'll send you home with Headmaster Dumbledore. I'm sure he will wait for you, and I'm also sure the kitchen wouldn't mind giving up a couple of bowls of pistachio ice cream in the meantime!"  
  
"Right you are," Dumbledore chuckled, smoothing the boy's tousled black locks off his face and kissing his forehead.  
  
"Make that four bowls if you please," Minerva McGonagall declared.  
  
---------------  
  
Later that night – after Albus had tucked Severus into his bed and had asked Head of Slytherin House Professor Penderdandis to keep a close watch over him – the Headmaster returned to his own office and summoned the Potions Master.  
  
He made the Dark Lord's treatment seem like kisses from Sartoris' mother.  
  
---------------  
  
The next day, Severus took advantage of the few days remaining before the start of the new term by seeking out his Magickal World instructor.  
  
"Professor Azaki," he said, "I wanted to ask if you would teach me about mountaineering and let my friends and me climb one of the neighboring peaks."  
  
"Of course, Severus. I'd be happy to," responded the cheerful young man, still invigorated by his recent summit of Mt. Fujiyama. "I can even spare a few minutes now. What I teach you now, you can teach them – who did you say your friends were?"  
  
"I didn't," Sev said. "But they are James Potter and Lily Evans, sir."  
  
"Bright and healthy students. Excellent! We could make the expedition a foursome, perhaps sometime this fall. I know a good trail up Mt. Muldoon we could try. Well, then. Tell me what you know so far."  
  
Severus grinned. He liked to please his teachers and was glad for the chance to show them what he knew without certain Gryffindor students hissing "Suck-up!" from behind him. "Muggle mountaineering is similar to ours in a number of ways. For example, both wizarding folk and Muggles can suffer numerous afflictions if they ascend too high, too fast."  
  
"Right," Professor Azaki said. "Explain what 'hike high, sleep low' means."  
  
"It means that when you are trying to acclimatize – that is, get your body used to living at a higher altitude – you must do it slowly. Climb higher during the day, but come back to where you were to sleep that night."  
  
"Correct. If you don't acclimatize, you can get what the Muggles call pulmonary or cerebral edema – your heart and/or lungs can stop working properly and you'll die."  
  
"Also, there's not nearly enough oxygen up there to breathe, and if you go up too fast you'll be too exhausted to do anything but lie there gasping for breath."  
  
"What's this?" said Albus Dumbledore, poking his head into the room. "A mountain field-trip planning session?"  
  
"It is," smiled Professor Azaki, looking up. He was surprised to see Severus sprint over to the old wizard, nearly knocking him over in his zeal to hug him.  
  
"Easy, my boy!" Dumbledore laughed. "Weren't you just talking about 'gasping for breath'?" Both laughed.  
  
"The Headmaster is like my father, Professor," the boy explained.  
  
"That's right," Albus added. "Severus is family, Frey." The boy looked into the old man's face with such gratitude and love that Albus scarcely kept the tears back.  
  
"Headmaster," Sev said excitedly, "we were just talking about Wizard Mountaineering."  
  
"And our scholar here has just told me how it is similar to Muggle mountain- climbing. Now, what are the differences?"  
  
"We can use spells, but they work much more slowly and aren't as strong as they ordinarily would be. This makes relying upon them rather risky."  
  
"That's right," Azaki replied. "What else might happen if a witch or wizard apparated from ground level to the summit of a mountain?"  
  
"In addition to the other effects Muggles would suffer, the witch or wizard might drastically shrink in size. For example, the explorer who first summitted Mt. Cotopaxi in 1887 -- Eduardo de Cacahuete – went from nearly six feet tall to four feet, nine inches."  
  
"Ah, the reason for his name – 'Edward the Peanut'!" Dumbledore (who spoke seventeen Muggle languages) added. "I assume that wasn't his original last name."  
  
"You assume correctly, Headmaster. Well, it seems that we might have a small mountaineering society beginning here at Hogwarts. Should we count on you to join us?"  
  
"No thank you, Frey," Albus laughed. "I am old and wise enough to know my limits. Take this young hellion here, by all means! He has the energy to leap over entire mountain chains!" He smoothed Sev's long dark hair. "Well, my child, it's time for me to continue on my rounds. Stop by later for some divinity and hot chocolate." The two hugged one another before Albus left.  
  
"Divinity and hot chocolate?" echoed Professor Azaki with a smile. "Why weren't the teachers like that when I went to school here?"  
  
Sev returned the smile. "I'm just lucky, I guess," he said wistfully.  
  
----------- 


	7. The Dark Times Begin

Chapter 7 – The Dark Times Begin  
  
--------------------------------------------  
  
St. Mungo's Hospital  
  
Children's Psychiatric Center London  
  
Dear Severus and Headmaster Dumbledore,  
  
Thank you both for your kind invitation to visit this Saturday. Sibelius and Aloysius are particularly delighted since both graduated from Hogwarts and are seeing it for the first time since then. They want me to make sure that Severus knows that they will teach him a little rock climbing! Both are avid hikers and climbers in addition to their other talents.  
  
Make sure that you wear that new sweater I've heard so much about, Sev! See you both around ten o'clock Saturday morning.  
  
Yours,  
  
Asphora LaChance Healer/Therapist  
  
--------------------------------------------  
  
Severus Snape threw his arms around his counselors' necks the very second they arrived. "I'm so glad to see you!" he told them.  
  
"It's wonderful to see Sev with so much positive energy," a grinning Sibelius Hammer said.  
  
"I wish we could bottle and sell it," Albus Dumbledore added. "Ah, to zip up and down the stairs again!"  
  
"And is this the new sweater, Sev?" asked Aloysius Bede.  
  
Severus nodded, extending his arms to display it. He had told his counselors that Sirius Black had willfully destroyed his first one, and they all realized how important this replacement was to the boy. The garment hung on him like a bag; he had rolled up the sleeves considerably and they were still a bit too long. The bottom of the sweater fell nearly to his knees.  
  
"Looks like you'll have to grow into that one, Sev," Asphora commented with her kindly smile.  
  
"I think Mrs. Potter knitted it with James in mind instead of a shrimp like me."  
  
"Shrimp! My stars! You're growing like a weed. Possess your soul in patience!" Asphora chided. "How are you feeling, honey?"  
  
"Good," the Slytherin boy said, nearly hopping up and down in anticipation of being taught the fundamentals of rock climbing.  
  
"Well," Albus said, "why don't you two gentlemen find a rock and let this whirling mass of pure energy climb it?"  
  
Sib and Aloysius nodded. "Come on, Sev," Sibelius said. "There's a good place not far from here. We'll have to fly, I believe. Headmaster, can I manage to borrow three brooms?"  
  
"Of course. Severus, go to Professor Hooch's office. I think there's an unwarded closet there with old brooms in it. I'm sure she wouldn't have a problem with sharing them."  
  
In a flash, Sev was gone, bounding down the hall on his long legs.  
  
"Albus, it is so rewarding to see him really happy," Asphora said. "Poor child has had so much suffering in his life. Your friendship and love have given him hope for the future – something he knew nothing about before he met you."  
  
"Severus is a wonderful boy," Dumbledore replied. "He is stronger than we both know. He helps this old wizard cope with his own loneliness. He's a comfort to me."  
  
"Back!" shrieked the "comfort", with three brooms in hand. "Let's go!"  
  
Severus thrust two of them into Sib and Aloysius' waiting hands. He then turned and thundered out the front gates, his long black hair flying behind him.  
  
"WindWizard 1600," Sib said, looking at his broom and laughing. "I think this one is from the Stone Age!"  
  
"As a matter of fact, young man, it is a leftover from your own days at Hogwarts!" Albus chuckled.  
  
"Oh. Well, then. It's only from the Bronze Age! Let's go before that kid bounces off the planet."  
  
The two young men followed Severus to the Castle's front lawn, where all three mounted their brooms and took to the sky.  
  
"There he goes with the barrel rolls," the Headmaster sighed while watching Sev show off his flying skills. "He also dives right toward the ground and pulls up and the very last second. He's only wiped out twice, as far as I know. Makes an old man's heart flutter with anxiety, it does!"  
  
"Albus, I would love a tour of your school, and then we can talk about what role the three of us from St. Mungo's might play in helping your students with their emotional difficulties. I especially want to meet Madam Pomfrey if she's back from her summer break."  
  
"Certainly." The old wizard presented Asphora with his arm.  
  
"Such a courtly gesture, Albus," Healer LaChance said, taking it and being led down the corridor.  
  
"You can also tell me how our boy is doing," the Headmaster added. "He seems more confident these days. He also isn't putting up with any nonsense from the Gryffindor boys who've been taunting him since his First Year."  
  
"Excellent," Asphora LaChance replied. "He's learned how not to be a victim for the first time in his life. Astonishing!"  
  
"Right this way," Albus said, nodding. "How about a cup of tea and a nice thick slab of lemon poppyseed cake once you've seen the arboretum and classrooms?"  
  
"Does it have icing?" the healer asked.  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"Does it have lots of icing?"  
  
"Right again!"  
  
"Let's go!"  
  
---------------------------  
  
All three flyers were soon landed.  
  
"How much geology have you studied in your Magickal World course?"  
  
Sev thought. "Last year we learned about weather – then about the sea – and we had just gotten started with geology and its effect on magic. We'll learn more about it when the new term begins on Monday."  
  
"I know your teacher, by the way," Aloysius said. "He was my older brother's roommate when they went here. Good man and a fine wizard. You'll do well to learn all you can from him."  
  
Sibelius walked over to the side of the nearest mountain, kicking away scree as he came. He conjured a nice thick layer of padding below it, right next to the mountain itself. He slapped his hand against the gray and weathered rocks of which it was made, and waited for Sev and Aloysius to join him.  
  
"These rocks here are part of the Southern Highland Group. They were once deep marine deposits, but heat and pressure from the Earth itself changed them into what we call metamorphic rock. Then they got shoved to the surface. Then they were weathered – that is, worn away by millennia of rain, ice, wind, and the forces of gravity."  
  
"What happened then?" Sev asked, trying to remember everything his counselor was telling him.  
  
"Ice ages," Aloysius added. "Four of them. Massive ice sheets, two miles high and thousands of miles long covered the entire region." He thrust a thumb at Sib. "This guy here is such a show-off that I haven't been able to get a word in edgewise!"  
  
The two young men laughed. Severus beamed, happy that they came all this way to see him and help him.  
  
"These rocks are schists, phyllites, and slates." Sibelius said, squatting down. "Sev, come and see these garnets!"  
  
The boy raced over and saw the scattering of reddish crystals embedded in the shiny gray-black rocks.  
  
Sib ran his hand over them. "Their presence here means that these rocks you're about to climb were once at least seven miles under the Earth's surface. Seven miles! I can't even imagine the forces that could push them all to the surface!"  
  
Sev was getting itchy to climb, so Sibelius stood and walked over to the closest rock face and then proceeding to climb it using only his hands and feet. He wedged them in cracks that looked far too small to accommodate them; at first, Sev thought his counselor was using magic.  
  
"Throw me that rope, Sev," he said. The Slytherin boy complied. Sib found a knobby outcropping of mica schist about ten feet up and tied the rope firmly around it. Sliding down the rope, the counselor dropped neatly onto the soft mat they had created.  
  
"All right, Sev, that's called 'fixing the line'. I have a lot of experience with rock climbing and prefer to do it without rope, but you'll want something to hang onto. Well, what are you waiting for?"  
  
Eyes wide, Sev first took his sweater off – the sun was shining brightly and he was getting warm – and folded it in a neat pile. He took a deep breath and began pulling himself up the rock face.  
  
"It's harder than it looks, isn't it, Severus?"  
  
"This isn't Mt. Cotopaxi but it will do," the novice joked.  
  
"Smart alec!" Aloysius laughed. "Go for it!"  
  
-------------------  
  
"You're so kind to let us visit," Asphora said. "And now, Headmaster – I see a question in your eyes. What is it?"  
  
Albus Dumbledore helped himself to another thick slice of lemon poppyseed cake. "This is honestly too good," he sighed. "I simply can't leave it alone if it's here in front of my nose!"  
  
"That doesn't sound like a question to me, Albus," Healer LaChance remarked.  
  
"Well. Asphora. Here it is. You mentioned in your prior note that Severus might not do well in the outside world. Can you provide me some details?"  
  
Asphora took a moment to gather her thoughts. It wouldn't do to scare the Headmaster. She felt he would certainly understand subtlety, but decided to be forthright instead.  
  
"Severus doesn't eat unless someone brings him food and then stands over him watching him eat it. He's much too thin for a lot of that to continue. Being in a place with three meals a day is very helpful in that regard. It gives him a structure to follow."  
  
Dumbledore nodded.  
  
"He also needs the structure to help him plan his days. He also needs to be reminded to go to sleep instead of brewing potions all night, every night."  
  
"Makes sense."  
  
"He is prone to depression, as you well know. We don't have a cure for it in the Wizarding World. It is very complex, the chemistry of the human brain -- ! When Sev is depressed, he withdraws from these little routines that give his life order and direction. Then he withdraws from the very few people he trusts. Lack of self-care follows, which only makes his spirits lower."  
  
"Yes," Albus sighed. "This is what happened right after the Yule holiday."  
  
"I think he needs – someone – "Asphora paused to give her words further emphasis – "– to keep an eye on him and make sure that doesn't happen. Our boy is likely to try suicide if he spirals down that far again. He needs – someone – to watch over him on a consistent basis – someone he trusts."  
  
"And that someone is me, Asphora," Dumbledore said, nodding. Asphora mentally palpitated his aura, finding no sarcasm or resentment toward Severus. "What else do you see in store for him?"  
  
"As powerful a wizard as he will certainly become, he is still a fragile soul beneath his untouchable exterior. Any taunting or pranks feed right into the memories of his father and all those years of abuse. Obliviation helps, Albus, but we use it sparingly for a good reason. Nobody really knows how tampering with someone's memories can affect them later in life."  
  
"Of course. In other words," Albus said, taking a sip of his sugared tea, "Severus needs to be treated with respect and dignity."  
  
"By everyone, especially the so-called Marauders," Asphora sighed. "I've heard the stories. It's so positive that one of them – the Potter boy – has extended a helping hand to Severus. The quiet one – what is his name, Albus?"  
  
"Remus Lupin."  
  
"Yes. Yes indeed. That young man would like to be Sev's friend as well, but Sev doesn't trust him. He told me he sensed something in the lad that scared him. The other two – well, they choose to remain his enemies. Make me a promise, Albus."  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"Keep an eye on those boys. This is a large place. Lots of hidey-holes and unused rooms to use for pushing someone in and tormenting them. Share with Sev your desire to keep them from hurting him this year. They're all Seventh Years now, and I hope that simple maturity will take care of the problem. But – I could be wrong. Be there for him, Headmaster. He loves you so, and will try to please you."  
  
"Tender loving care," Albus added softly.  
  
"Yes. That's it." Asphora rose and gave a deep breath, smiling. "All right, then! Let's head back toward the front lawn. Aloysius and Sib said they'd have Severus back around one o'clock. Perhaps you can show me the Great Hall on the way."  
  
"Yes, and we can grab a bite of lunch as well. We'll have just enough time. Many of the students are back a bit early and the Elves are keen to feed them. And me as well." Dumbledore patted his waistline. "Wider as the years pass. Alas!"  
  
Both laughed and headed down the Gryphon stairway.  
  
--------------------  
  
No teenager anywhere on Earth was more excited than Severus Snape.  
  
He had spent the last couple of hours jamming his fingers and toes into the cracks in the rock outcrop – falling – then getting up again. His fingers and toes were scraped and bruised, but he hardly noticed. The child had also hoisted himself up the face using the rope. He didn't have a firm hold on it a few times – and fell – and got right up again. Sev knew he could have used magic, but wanted to learn without it. It didn't seem in the least bit sporting to – well, cheat like that! Sibelius Hammer and Aloysius Bede were happy that they had been able to cushion his falls, and now it was nearly time to go.  
  
"That's it, young chap," Aloysius said, sitting down in the grass to take off his climbing shoes. Sib knelt down to examine a slab of garnet schist while Severus pulled on his red sweater.  
  
The healer's eyes widened. "Great Merlin! Here's a garnet as big as my fist! I've never seen anything like it!"  
  
Sev gasped, dropping to all fours and crawling as far as he could before he was firmly wedged under Sib's arm. Nearly ready to join them, Aloysius rested his free hand on Sev's foot as he pulled off his other shoe. Full of awe and wonder, Sibelius Hammer reached out and grasped the large and shining blood-red stone.  
  
There was a green flash, and only three backpacks – three brooms – and three wands lay on the grass.  
  
All three wizards had completely vanished. 


	8. The Horror in the Cellar

Chapter 8 – The Horror in the Cellar  
  
Within temporal seconds, Severus Snape, Sibelius Hammer, and Aloysius Bede found themselves tumbled onto an earthen floor in a darkened room. It took them a few moments to regain their composure and to blink in the darkness until the outlines of nearby shapes became visible.  
  
"What in Seven Hells is this?" Sib panted.  
  
"That pretty rock we were so interested in was obviously a portkey. Where are we, anyway?" Aloysius asked.  
  
Severus looked around at the resolving images and felt a cold thud of dread in his heart. "I know this place," he whispered. "It's the dungeon in Malfoy Manor!"  
  
With that, Sib gasped and grabbed the boy by the sleeve of his red sweater. "HIDE, Sev! Hide NOW!" Almost as if on cue, multiple footsteps echoed as people moved down the stone stairs towards them, just behind the flame of an approaching torch.  
  
Sev looked around frantically. He knew the room fairly well since he had spent several weeks here, brewing potions and teaching the other Slytherin students how to do so. The room looked different then. There was really no place to hide –  
  
Except –  
  
"Sev!" Aloysius hissed. "Try that sarcophagus over there!" He pointed to what looked like a hinged mummy casing.  
  
It's a Black Maria, Sev thought. No, an Iron Maiden, you stupid git! It's an implement of torture –  
  
Sev glanced around frantically. Implements of torture were in fact the newest additions to a room that ordinarily held just laboratory equipment. The rack. The bastinado. The Catherine's wheel.  
  
Without another word, Sev bounded across the room and got inside the Iron Maiden. Without hesitation,he began to close it and soon realized that there were large and sharp iron spikes to his back and front. He did his best to wriggle around the spikes and fit himself inside, and closed the lid just enough to avoid detection.  
  
Sev could not see who was now entering the room, but recognized Avaris Malfoy's voice. He heard several more, one of whom was a woman's voice.  
  
Casting a binding spell on Sib and Aloysius, the lord of the manor said, "And here we are. Two helpless Ministry aurors, never to see the light of day again! They are at your disposal, Widow Dufresne."  
  
Sev heard a woman' voice chuckling. "Welcome, gentlemen. We're going to play a game. The game is called "Spill the Secrets". I will ask you questions after you've enjoyed this lovely goblet of Veritaserum, brewed just this summer by a young man you know quite well. Apparently, he has not accompanied you here today."  
  
Severus now heard the voice of a second man. He did not recognize it. "What a shame that is! He's been wasting all his time, playing games and spending his holidays with Gryffindors like his dunderheaded headmaster."  
  
The woman's voice was cold. "Spare me your insight, Macnair. And now to continue, my two fine gentlemen! If you do not answer me immediately and in full, I shall use the little toys you see around you. Come, Mordecai."  
  
Macnair approached. Severus couldn't see, but he certainly could hear. He heard a low moan from Sibelius, then an exhalation and a cry of rage. It sounded like Sib had spat the potion back at the Dark wizard.  
  
"Naughty boy," chided the Widow Dufresne. "Put him on the rack if you would, dear Mordecai." She chuckled, and then walked around the trapped aurors.  
  
She sounded very close.  
  
Very close indeed.  
  
Before she spoke again, she leaned against the Iron Maiden just a bit – long enough and hard enough for the iron spikes to partly close upon Severus.  
  
He wriggled desperately, trying to get out of their way. He felt a spike scrape the side of his head. He also felt two more spikes puncture his legs. He willed his voice not to cry out.  
  
But they did not drive through. His body – from his neck to right above his knees – was protected by his new red sweater. Eight spikes pushed in further and eight spikes crumpled with an odd grinding sound. They held, and the spikes came no closer. Fortunately, Lady Dufresne had been too busy giving orders to hear.  
  
"Shall I give it a crank, ma'am?" Macnair said. Severus – biting his lip and desperately trying to keep quiet – felt blood trickle down his lower legs and the side of his head.  
  
"Yes indeed," the widow laughed. "He's such a naughty boy, and I really think he needs a good talking-to before I shove this potion down his throat with a stick."  
  
Severus heard his friend's anguished shriek before he threw up and passed out.  
  
-----------  
  
Severus woke to blackness and the smell of his own vomit.  
  
And blood.  
  
He sensed that the coppery smell was greater than the trickles he had generated himself.  
  
What about Sib and Aloysius?  
  
With a groan, Severus began to push the lid open, his muscles and joints protesting mightily.  
  
And then he saw two eyes, as large as eggs and as green as the grapes he picked and ate in the summertime. Sev screamed, forgetting that he was in mortal peril himself.  
  
"It's all righty, they'se gone!" the House Elf whispered.  
  
"Who – who are you?" Severus returned, trying to become accustomed to the darkness surrounding them both.  
  
"I am Dobby," the creature said gravely. "And whose you, pray tell?" The elf snapped his fingers together. His index fingertip held a shimmering blue flame that generated light but not heat. "Oh my goodnesses! You is Young Master's friend Silvery Snake! You remember Dobby, then!"  
  
Sev exhaled loudly. "Yes. It's me -- Silvery – Snake." House Elves generally had trouble with diction and Dobby was no exception.  
  
"Want me to go wake Young Master?"  
  
"NO!" Sev hissed. "Don't do that, Dobby!"  
  
"Want me to go wake Young Miss?"  
  
"ABSOLUTELY NOT," Severus gasped.  
  
Dobby's odd features distorted themselves into a wry little smile. "Dobby and Teeny both know Little Miss try to do naughty things to Silvery Snake. But hims not want bad girl!" He chuckled knowingly.  
  
Severus wanted to strangle him on the spot. "Dobby. Stop talking nonsense. What about my friends? Are they still here? I can't see them!"  
  
Dobby's face crumpled into lines of grief. "Oh poor boy. Poor boy Silvery Snake don't know about aurors Master caught."  
  
Sev was already crying. "Oh, please don't tell me that they're – "  
  
Dobby saw Severus' tears. "Oh, poor Silvery Snake. Hims all alone now. Aurors – dead and taken away. Dead and taken away. Dobby had to help. Very sad."  
  
The House Elf began to wail loudly. Sev shot out of the Iron Maiden and clapped his hand over Dobby's mouth. It felt like his heart was breaking. He knew it would be fatal to give in to his grief here. "Hush now," Sev breathed through his tears. "Dobby, can you get me out of here without breaking the wards?"  
  
Happy to be wanted and useful, the House Elf nodded vigorously. Sev unclasped the little creature's face. "Young Master and Young Miss sleeping now. Master and Lady out at big party. Dobby can help Silvery Snake leave!"  
  
Sev moaned as the puncture wounds on his lower legs reopened.  
  
"Young school friend hurt," Dobby clucked, transfiguring a nearby piece of parchment into a bandage. Without hesitation, he halved it, and then wound the pieces around Sev's thin legs. "There. They is better. Just for now. Other friends must help Silvery Snake later on. Must walk with Dobby now!"  
  
Holding onto Dobby's spidery little hand, Severus picked his way around some obstacles in his path – it was too dark to see exactly what they were, and for that Severus was grateful – and tiptoed up the steps until they reached the kitchens. Fortunately, it was very nearly as dark here as it had been in the dungeon.  
  
Darkness and silence were in Severus' favor.  
  
"Dobby," Sev whispered, "I'm going to need a broom. Is there one you could give me?"  
  
The boy was surprised to see fear, anger, and relief wash across the House Elf's face. "Oh yessum," Dobby pronounced. "I can give young Silvery Snake the bad broom."  
  
Sev's breath caught in his throat. "And – why is it called a bad broom, Dobby?"  
  
"Oh, Young Miss hit Dobby and Teeny and Twixum with it! It's a bad old broom! Dobby stole and hid bad old broom from Young Miss! I will fetch it for you!"  
  
With a pop, Dobby disapparated and reappeared almost as quickly, holding what appeared to be a completely serviceable broom. He presented it to the shivering dark-haired boy with a half bow.  
  
"Now, commins this way," Dobby whispered, pointing toward another door. "Dobby help Young Silvery. Wards not break if Dobby does for him. Come now!"  
  
--------------  
  
Within a very few minutes, Severus found himself standing in the wet grass of the Manor's front lawn. The stars blazed overhead in the clear sky. His head began to pulse at the location of his injury, and he groaned and placed his hand over it.  
  
Seeing this, Dobby threw a charm over the boy and Sev's headache soon subsided.  
  
"How can I thank you for your help, Dobby?"  
  
The House Elf shook his head. "No way. Poor, poor Dobby is trapped here. No escape for poor Dobby. I is glad to help Young Silvery. Go now! Godspeed!"  
  
Dobby disapparated with a pop, leaving Severus alone with his broom. Within seconds, he had run, kicked off, and flew toward the Moon's shining white disk.  
  
-------------  
  
"What the deuce is this, then?" howled Argus Filch, responding to the pounding at the front door of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
"Please, Mr. Filch! It's Severus Snape! Please let me in!"  
  
With an exhalation of disgust, the large barred door swung open. In front of him stood the thin youth, blood caked on the side of his head and two makeshift bandages stained with more of it around his legs. Gasping, Filch reached out and pulled the boy inside, slamming the door shut. It locked itself immediately.  
  
"I need to see the Headmaster, please, Mr. Filch," Severus begged, beginning to cry. "It's urgent. Someone has been killed."  
  
"Wish I could levitate you, boy," the caretaker said. "Hold onto my arm and I'll get you there right proper."  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Norris," Sev whispered, looking down at the Maine Coon cat that was careful not to rub against his wounds.  
  
Within minutes Severus was on the Gryphon staircase, heading up to the Headmaster's office. Both Dumbledore and Asphora LaChance ran to him.  
  
"Oh, Sev, where have you been --?" The healer cried out when she saw his wounds. Albus grabbed the boy and held him close.  
  
"Dead, they're dead, they're dead!" Severus shrieked. "Tortured and given Veritaserum at Malfoy Manor – oh heavenly gods, they're both dead!"  
  
Quickly, Dumbledore cast a silencing spell around the boy and the two adults. Both of them soon joined the sixteen-year-old in his grief-filled weeping.  
  
-------------  
  
After a short while – after the initial shock of Severus' words had passed -- Albus picked up the boy and began to carry him towards the the stairway. "We must get you to the Hospital Wing, child," he intoned. "Please say no more about this matter to anyone."  
  
"What?" Sev gasped.  
  
"Don't say anything about the deaths or your captivity, honey," Asphora finished. "We will do what is necessary, believe me."  
  
"I guess it really doesn't matter anyway. I don't suppose that my word would count much against Lord Malfoy's," Severus sighed, resting his head on the Headmaster's shoulder and weaving his fingers gently through his beard. "Why would anybody believe a suicidal kid who just spent the last few months in a mental hospital?" He began to cry again. "I can't believe they're gone! And they helped me so much!"  
  
"Don't worry, son," Albus told him. "As Healer LaChance has said, we will take care of the matter. Later – when you're feeling better – we will talk more about it. For right now, all we need to concentrate on is dressing those wounds. Where did they come from?"  
  
"I hid in an Iron Maiden," Severus answered through his tears. "The woman there – a Widow Dufresne – "  
  
Both adults exchanged solemn glances.  
  
"What about her, sweetheart?"  
  
"Well, she closed it partway, not knowing I was in there. Mrs. Potter's sweater saved my life! Even the iron spikes couldn't puncture through it."  
  
"A good thing it was oversized, honey," Asphora LaChance whispered.  
  
"You had no part in this tragedy, Severus. I am so grateful you survived, my precious Dark child!"  
  
Severus began to cry even harder. "But, Headmaster," the Slytherin boy sobbed. "I was the one who brewed that Veritaserum! I'm as guilty as the rest of them!"  
  
"I understand that, Severus. You're still mine. You always will be, no matter what."  
  
Nearly faint with relief, Sev closed his eyes.  
  
The three made their way down the corridor as torches snapped into full blaze before them. 


	9. Distracted Plans

Chapter 9 – Distracted Plans  
  
"There is one at Hogwarts who undoes your Dark lessons, Sartoris," Lord Riddle whispered, stroking the back of Nagini, his favorite python.  
  
The Potions Master stood up even straighter, if such a thing was physiologically possible. "Who, my Lord?" A sick fear began to overspread his dark soul. Someone he missed, perhaps? And right after disappointing the Dark Lord too!  
  
"There are two at Hogwarts who makes young Snape laugh instead of paying attention to his studies."  
  
"His studies, my Lord? He has been at the top of most of his classes!"  
  
Tom Riddle clicked his tongue in a gesture of disgust. "Not the school's curriculum, you fool. I refer to his free access to the Restricted Section of Hogwarts Library. He hasn't been up there in weeks. Instead, he has been flying brooms around and making up silly jokes to please the Gryffindors."  
  
"Sounds like a waste of time, my Lord."  
  
"Indeed," Riddle sighed. "If young Snape has the potential you believe he has, then such things are distractions. They will keep him from joining us once he graduates from that cesspit. You know very well I can't kill Dumbledore, who also smothers him with kindness and keeps him grounded firmly in the Light. Young Snape even calls the Headmaster 'father'."  
  
"Outrageous! I had no idea, my Lord. I will take steps to -- "  
  
"You can take steps to do nothing. I will bide my time with Dumbledore and strike when I am ready. Once I have attained my goal, what the Snape boy calls that old fool will be the least of his concerns."  
  
"Well, who are these persons, then?"  
  
Riddle smirked. "One is a girl with red hair. She is kind to the boy. The other is a boy with wispy hair and glasses, who plays Quidditch with him and has welcomed Young Snape into his home and introduced him to his family."  
  
"I believe I know these students," Sartoris hissed, his own deep voice ominously snakelike. "Shall I please Your Lordship by eliminating them from his life?"  
  
"It is not purely your concern," Tom Riddle said, raising his hand to stop Sartoris in mid-thought. " Originally, I thought that killing them would be unnecessary, but since your thickheaded bungling of my trust in your current position has made me reconsider. Within two days I want you to tell me that you have already set in motion a plan to remove these whelps from Hogwarts. Your prize student's life will then be restored to what it was -- a life devoted to the study of the Dark arts and how to use them against my enemies."  
  
"I will, Your Lordship," Sejanus Sartoris begged. "Within two days!"  
  
And that's another thing," Riddle said, giving the teacher a louring look. "They have taught Snape how to have -- dare I say it --? Fun. When the last great battle comes, 'fun' will do us no good. One does not destroy one's enemies with 'fun'. Do not disappoint me further, Sartoris. You are a hair's breadth from death at this very moment."  
  
The Potions Master prostrated himself before Voldemort and entreated him to spare his life.  
  
"You're cowardly and disgusting, Sartoris," the Dark Lord hissed. "I like that in a servant. Adieu!"  
  
-----------------  
  
Severus had a hard time concealing his grief over the deaths of Aloysius Bede and Sibelius Hammer. Whenever he felt the hot waves of emotion threaten to swamp him and his stern and unwavering appearance, he recited a rhyme his mother had once taught him. She had taught him to sing it, actually – little Severus could sing beautifully and could even play a few musical instruments!  
  
Until, of course, his father came home in a rage and broke the child's lute over his back until it was broken into splinters. The next time Confutatis Maledictis Snape heard his son singing, he threatened to strangle him to death to stop the 'caterwauling' that disturbed his solitude.  
  
Severus was afraid to sing, even now. He simply recited the verse in his head when he needed to distract himself from his true feelings:  
  
"One for sorrow, two for mirth, Three for death, four for birth. Five for silver, six for gold, Seven for a secret, never to be told."  
  
It was especially difficult to keep his solemn mien in front of James and Lily, who usually ended up making the Slytherin boy laugh. They had all met in the library once again at the commencement of their Seventh Year at Hogwarts, already gleeful and thinking up new adventures.  
  
"Never thought I'd make it this far," James sighed.  
  
"Neither did we," Lily said. She and Severus broke into laugher.  
  
"Silence!" cried Madame Pince.  
  
"Sorry, ma'am."  
  
"Hey, listen. Professor Azaki has promised to teach all of us mountain- climbing and will take us up to a local peak!"  
  
"Um, why should I care about that, Snape?"  
  
"Because, um, Potter, if you don't go with Lily and me, you're a yellow- bellied coward."  
  
"Better than being a death-defying dunderhead like SOME people I could mention – "  
  
"HEY," both Sev and Lily replied.  
  
"Silence!" shrieked Madame Pince.  
  
"Sorry, ma'am."  
  
"Bwaak bwaaak bwaaak," Severus clucked. Lily made winglike motions with her arms.  
  
"Shut your heads over there," Sirius Black hissed from three tables over. James popped his head up and turned to give his friend the infamous one- finger salute. He was temporarily disarmed, however, by the spectacle of Sirius Black acting as if he was having a hot and heavy love session with an invisible young lady. James hoped that Lily would not turn around.  
  
"We're to meet with the professor first thing Saturday. No whining out of you, Potter; it isn't even Quidditch season yet. He'll teach us basic mountaineering and even a little rock-climbing." Poor Severus blinked hard. He knew he would be unable to tell the two of them about how Sib and Aloysius had given him lessons. He concentrated hard; "One for sorrow, two for mirth – "  
  
"Thanks so much, Sev, for setting that up. Won't it be fun? Don't worry, James. We won't abandon you on a snow-covered summit, lost and alone!"  
  
Lost and alone. Like his two counselors had been at the end.  
  
Three for death, four for birth –  
  
"I don't get it. If you die climbing a stupid mountain, what do you get once you've done it? There aren't any awards or anything!"  
  
Just like Sib and Aloysius. Nobody gave them any posthumous medals or citations. They were just dead.  
  
Five for silver, six for gold –  
  
"And nobody pays you to do it, either!" James finished, clinching it.  
  
The two young aurors were nearly poverty-stricken at the time of their deaths. Their salaries at St. Mungo's barely covered living expenses. They somehow felt that their jobs carried more worthy compensations.  
  
"Silence!" shrieked Madame Pince. "Mr. Potter, I will toss you out of this library if I see your lips move again!!"  
  
"Sorry, ma'am."  
  
Severus so wanted to tell his friends what he had been through, but he could not.  
  
Seven for a secret, never to be told.  
  
A paper wad hit James in the head. He looked frantically at Madame Pince to see if she had noticed. No, he was still in the clear.  
  
He unwrapped it only to see a crude pencil sketch of a girl with long hair kissing a snake with a big nose.  
  
Grinning now, he crumpled it back up, turned, and pegged Peter Pettigrew with it.  
  
"MR. POTTER! OUT OF THIS LIBRARY RIGHT THIS SECOND! MR. SNAPE! MISS EVANS! OUT OF HERE!"  
  
"Some people just don't have a sense of humor," Lily hissed.  
  
Both boys looked at her, shocked. Then they caught each others' eyes and cracked up.  
  
Sirius and Peter made rude kissing noises as they made their departure.  
  
-----------------  
  
It was a clear and bright Saturday. One couldn't have wished for better weather. The three children and their professor had gone over the various kinds of equipment and the Muggle names for them.  
  
"Wizards and witches also use many of these because of the problems we discussed in class. Such as?"  
  
"Hypoxia."  
  
"Good, Mr. Snape."  
  
"Altitude sickness."  
  
"Right, Mr. Potter.  
  
"Turning into a peanut!"  
  
"More or less, Miss Evans. Excellent. Now, I want you students to imagine you are going on a winter hike. There will be some steep ascents. I then want you to go pick one of the items you would need the most and tell us why it is vital. Mr. Snape?"  
  
Sev stood up, walked over to the pile of equipment hastily put together by Professor Azaki, and picked out a long and heavy coil of rope. "We would want to fix ropes ahead of time for the places we couldn't ascend easily."  
  
"Excellent. Miss Evans?"  
  
She went over and picked up an ice pick. "Not only can you use this to chop hand and foot holds for yourself, but you can also self-arrest with this."  
  
"Tell us what this means, Mr. Snape."  
  
"To self-arrest means to dig your axe into the snow to stop yourself if you start to slide downhill too fast or in the wrong direction."  
  
"Fine. Mr. Potter, kindly make your selection."  
  
"I've got it knocked," James whispered to himself. He ostentatiously removed one of his shoes and fixed it into a metal frame that looked a lot like a shoe sole with teeth. "This is a crampon, which allows you to kick, then step, with the front 'teeth', and to keep from sliding off snow or ice."  
  
"Children, why has Mr. Potter slid down the mountain to his untimely death?"  
  
"Because the stupid git has the crampon on upside down," Snape blurted out. He and Lily laughed and pointed while James tried to bluster his way out of it.  
  
"Next Saturday – and, Mr. Potter, don't fear, Quidditch tryouts aren't for another week – we shall meet here and fly to the base of Mt. Muldoon. It's not a very technical climb. It's low enough to keep you from getting sick at altitude, yet enough of an angle of ascent to give those young muscles a good workout. I will see you then."  
  
Lily and Severus excitedly talked about their plans right before Potions class began on Monday morning. Neither noticed that their professor was taking a keener interest in their discussion than most of those around them.  
  
--------------  
  
Sev spent much of his free time in the Headmaster's office, where it was safe to cry and to talk about his two auror friends.  
  
Dumbledore laid a saucer with three pieces of divinity on it before the grieving boy. "Here, Severus. This will taste good with your tea. Go on ahead; I'll be busy enjoying my lemon crumble square."  
  
Sev's head still hung low. He wiped his streaming eyes. "How is Shonsey doing?"  
  
"She's a mess over it," Albus said. "Of course, she would be the most badly affected among the three of us. Of course, Malfoy denied any knowledge and refused to let aurors into his home to conduct his search – as was in fact his right. A man's home is his castle – even if there are dark doings conducted there. Most frustrating, my boy."  
  
"So they died for nothing," Sev snuffled.  
  
"No, child. They died for the side of the Light. During various times in Wizarding and Muggle history, an evil one – a pretender – attempts to seize power, killing and torturing those who disagree. Those of us on the side of the Light do whatever we can to stop them. Your information was vital to our collective knowledge, Severus. Please know that they did not die in vain, and you did not suffer their loss in vain."  
  
"I never want to go to the Restricted Section or Malfoy Manor again," Severus sobbed, his divinity and tea untouched.  
  
"But you must," Dumbledore said.  
  
"What? Why?" Sev asked, incredulous.  
  
"Because you must act as if nothing has changed. Changing one's activities can tell an enemy as much as words can. You don't wish to do that."  
  
Severus gazed into the Headmaster's blue eyes. "All right," the boy said. "I will act as if nothing happened. Although it's – just – so – hard – "  
  
Albus came over and pulled him into a hug. "You're doing fine, Severus. I'm proud of you no matter if you follow my advice or not."  
  
The old wizard's hand began to inch toward the saucer holding the fudge.  
  
Severus yelled, "AHA! OFF MY FUDGE!" and both laughed.  
  
"Eat it before I do, son," Dumbledore said. "It's good to laugh a little, isn't it?"  
  
Sev nodded.  
  
"Well, backs to my duties and off you go to Transfiguration. Give my regards to Professor McGonagall."  
  
"Thank you for letting me come," the Slytherin child said.  
  
"Why wouldn't I? You're family, after all."  
  
------------  
  
At precisely nine o'clock the following Saturday morning, one professor and three students flew their broomsticks to nearby Mt. Muldoon, roughly seven thousand feet from its base to its summit. Each student showed Professor Azaki what he or she had packed.  
  
"Remember – don't carry even so much as one extra ounce," their teacher and guide repeated. "It will begin to feel mighty heavy once you've hiked up a couple thousand feet. Mr. Snape, I think you've carried two of everything. Why not go through your backpack and see if there's anything you can cull?"  
  
Lily got a nod of approval from the half-Norwegian, half-Japanese wizard. But James did not.  
  
"Mr. Potter! One would think we were going to climb Cotopaxi, the way you've packed! Start culling, my young friend."  
  
In ten minutes, the students all stood. Their teacher pointed toward the summit.  
  
"Let's roll," he said.  
  
---------- 


	10. The Mountain

Chapter 10 – The Mountain  
  
The three friends, guided by their Magickal World professor Frey Azaki, made very good time on their way to the summit of Mt. Muldoon.  
  
"One of you tell me, please, why we are seeing red sandstones in this formation instead of the gneiss and schist we see closer to the school?"  
  
Severus raised his hand out of habit, and everyone laughed in good humor. "This area buckled up when continents collided around a billion years ago. This also created basins and low areas through which rivers flowed. The mountains eroded and it all washed into these river basins and layered and layered until they were pressed into sandstone."  
  
"Ooooh isn't he smaaaaart," James grinned. "Fifty bazillion points for Slytherin."  
  
"Hey, that's my line," Professor Azaki laughed. "Ten points will do nicely, Severus. Well done."  
  
"Of course it was," Severus returned, unable to resist returning the zinger. "I think that given the geologic history of this area, it makes sense to tell Potter to pound sand."  
  
All four groaned at the dreadful pun.  
  
Lily reached over and patted Sev's face in a gesture of spontaneous affection. He had been feeling rather chilly so far, but his face felt positively hot just then.  
  
"You're blushing," Lily said in her sweet-natured way. "It looks so cute!"  
  
Sev ducked his head and grinned in sheer delight, and to his heart's content. No one would be able to see his face behind that wall of black hair, after all!  
  
---------------  
  
After enjoying a snack of pineapple cottage cheese, grapes, and bananas (as well as the lemon creams the Headmaster had donated to the cause), Professor Azaki showed the students how to tie themselves together for their mutual safety. "This is called the belay," he said. "All right, Severus, climb up to that rock up there and fix the line."  
  
Fueled by Sugar Infusion a la Dumbledore, Sev had no trouble scrambling up the side of the rock face and tying his line securely around a large boulder.  
  
"Okay, Lily and James, go ahead and clip on." They did so, and were very proud of themselves.  
  
"Well done, students," Professor Azaki said. "If we were climbing a mountain with a greater angle of ascent, we would need to do this. All right, all three of you can – "  
  
"Sir," James interrupted. "Are there garnets in sandstone?"  
  
The teacher shook his head. "Uh, no. They are associated with extreme metamorphism, and that process takes place deep within the Earth."  
  
"Well, what is this, then?" James pointed at a nearby rock face.  
  
"Oh, it's so pretty!" Lily said, and reached over to touch it.  
  
"NO! NO! DON'T – "Severus shrieked, but it was too late.  
  
The three children – joined together by the rope – vanished.  
  
In the sky directly above Mt. Muldoon, the image of a skull entwined with a snake appeared.  
  
That was when Professor Azaki began to scream.  
  
-------------  
  
For the first time in years, Albus Dumbledore was afraid.  
  
Frey had made his way back to the Castle, raving that all three children were gone, leaving their wands and packs behind. "Where are they?" the professor had shrieked over and over, clinging to the Headmaster for dear life.  
  
Albus had immediately led the exhausted and terrified man to his office. After calming the distraught wizard, Albus pushed him close to his scrying ball and bade him look with his mind as well as his eyes.  
  
Both saw a swirling snowstorm and the three students huddled together in the middle of it.  
  
"Now, young ones, where in the World are you?" Albus whispered, his fingers delicately holding the outside of the quartz ball. A series of phrases came to his mind like the answer to a prayer:  
  
"Curious as you may be  
As children three you see  
High up Cotopaxi -- "  
  
Dumbledore recited the verse for Frey.  
  
"Oh gods, Albus! Where on Cotopaxi?" he hissed, his anxiety clouding his psychic eye.  
  
The swirling storm now resolved into coordinates written in a tiny and ornate crabbed scrawl; Albus wrote them down before they vanished back into mist.

Both wizards then saw the mountain itself and the great red beacon that beckoned them to join the lost children.

Professor Azaki trembled and grabbed at Dumbledore's robes once again. "If they're on Cotopaxi, they're dying! Their bodies can't acclimate at such an altitude in such a short time period! They'll only get a third as much oxygen there as they do here! They'll freeze -- "

"I know, my boy," Dumbledore said, holding the professor's jittering hands. "If you would be kind enough to unhand me, I'll go fetch them."

Dumbledore turned, and his hands melted into the scrying ball itself. It grew, glittering, until it encompassed the old wizard entirely.

The Magickal World professor now stood alone once again.

------------

The wind screamed down from the summit of Mt. Cotopaxi, the highest peak in the Wizarding world at 29,528 feet. The children – grossly underdressed for even its lower latitudes and gasping for breath – clung to one another.

"GARNET!" Severus shrieked, feeling his fingers beginning to freeze.

Lily and James looked at him dully, not comprehending.

"PORTKEY!" the Slytherin boy screamed.

"WHERE?" Lily screamed back.

"COTOPAXI!" Sev cried. He recognized their location from pictures in one of the library books back at Hogwarts. He looked up to see a vertical face of crumbling schist above them; and then the dead white of the screaming gale and the ultraviolet radiation from the Sun struck him snow-blind.  
  
Severus Snape began to cry as he snuggled closer to his freezing friends. His tears immediately froze, creating little balls of ice that hung like grapes on his eyelashes.

"HELP US!" James screamed to anyone who might hear them.

Then the wind tore the words away and the children remained all alone – Severus with his snow blindness and James with his freezing hands and feet. Lily was hopelessly entangled in the fixed line, desperately praying for rescue until high altitude cerebral edema smeared her thoughts into nonsense.

Sev felt Dark tendrils digging into him; teasing, insinuating, and inviting him to disapparate to some terrible place and for some terrible reason.

---------


	11. The Decision

Chapter 11 - The Decision

Severus desperately tried to resist the Dark tendrils that had nearly sapped him of his will. His fragile body, however, was beginning to die from the combined effects of extreme cold and severe altitude sickness.

Odd, how freezing to death under a Dark spell was so like being in a Dementor's grasp. Severus wished that he had been strong enough to resist the exodus of the few pleasant memories he possessed. The ones that remained in his consciousness were brittle and mean; full of self-doubt and self-hatred.

Unloved, abused, humiliated. That had been his rotten little life all along.

All alone in his crib, crying for hours with no one to comfort him.

Watching his mother trying to get away from his father by pushing him in front of her – as if a tiny child could shield her from a Dark wizard's blows!

Being abused even before he knew the right words for it.

Having no friends, no celebrations, no toys, no life.

Not knowing what to do when he was suddenly shoved into the world.

The name-calling, the jeers, the snickers, the shoves, the punches, the kicks.

Humiliations at school and knowing he'd have been better off dead.

Having Martis Vox torn away from him, leaving a gaping wound that never healed.

Feeling his inner self shatter to pieces.

Severus Snape's last thoughts were of Dumbledore and his life at Hogwarts, where it was warm and the sun shone and his mentor loved him as his own.

O  
Father  
Help  
Me  
Please 

-------------

Suddenly there was warmth; there was comfort; there was Light. The tendrils insinuating their way into his soul broke apart and dissipated like snowmelt.

The boy knew Dumbledore was nearby. Dumbledore would help him. He smiled, feeling the wizard's familiar healing warmth spread calm and safety through his freezing body.

"Father!" Severus cried out in his mind, unaware that he was now encased in a shining sphere of light. "Please! Help the others! They – "

"It is all right, my son," Albus Dumbledore answered with his own thoughts. "They are safe. And so are you."

Sev reached over and put his arms around the old wizard, amazed and delighted that they were both corporeal. He even opened his eyes and looked at him. He could see again!

"Hello, child."

"How did you find us?" the boy gasped.

"Mrs. Potter is a very wise witch, Severus. She wove her own magic into the sweater you wear. When you began to slip into hypoxia, it lit up like a beacon. Since Professor Azaki had made it back to the Castle safely, I already knew that you three had been stolen from the side of Mt. Muldoon. It was just a question of finding you, and Mrs. Potter's enchanted sweater provided the missing piece of the puzzle."

Sev clung to the old wizard, who smoothed his frozen hair and kissed his head. "Where are we, then?" he asked, still shivering from hypothermia.

The Headmaster took both his hands in his own to warm them. "We are on the summit of Mt. Cotopaxi," Dumbledore said. "You are where you'd dreamt of being, back in the library when you and Lily Evans read about it. We will be here for a while, cocooned in this little bubble of ground-level atmosphere. I wanted to talk to you and this seems as good a place as any."

The jet stream to their right screamed across the summit of Mt. Cotopaxi at better than two hundred miles an hour, sending a vast plume of snow whipping into the atmosphere like an animate banner. All Severus felt, however, was warmth, kindness, and the inner peace that love brings to all those who long for it.

Dumbledore finally spoke. "Please realize that I have no right to speak about these things with you. Your life's path is not mine to influence."

Sev shook his head. "But it is, you see. If it hadn't been for you, I would be dead. You protected me from being killed by my father, time and again. You also saved me from myself not once, but twice."

"Severus. Listen carefully to me. If you accept the truth of what I tell you and decide to act upon it, today will be the last day of your childhood; the last day of your innocence."

Silence.

"I never was really a child," Sev mused. "My father never permitted it. My innocence was torn from me a long time ago. Talk to me about what you came to tell me. I can bear it. You know I can."

Albus looked at him, his face drawn and weary. "Do you trust me, my boy?"

"I trust you."

"The Wizarding World is approaching a terrible crisis – a battle between Tom Riddle, now known to his followers as Lord Voldemort, and those on the side of the Light. He is actively recruiting members to join the ranks of his Death Eaters – his wizard footsoldiers, as it were, in his battle to take over Wizardkind by foul means."

"I had heard my father speak of him," Severus said solemnly. "They also call him the Dark Lord. Father told me that I had been born to become his acolyte."

"His power has grown considerably since your father first went to Azkaban. Riddle means to corrupt or kill every witch and wizard who will not join him. This means the entire student population of Hogwarts is in desperate peril – except for those who are willing to become Death Eaters. He also means to murder all the teachers and staff -- save one."

"Professor Sartoris," Sev breathed. "You knew!"

"I did indeed, thanks to Shonsey LaChance. By the way, she is also one of the Ministry's aurors and I trust her completely. Hopefully, she will avoid the fate of her colleagues."

Severus was quiet for a while before he spoke. "I want to avenge Sib and Aloysius. I want to make sure this – Riddle person – doesn't wreck the lives of any more Wizarding children. My father abused me because he was evil, and I know that a lot of that evil came directly from the Dark Lord's influence. Headmaster -- I sense that you can tell me how I can do these things. Am I correct?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I am aware of a prophecy that alludes to a Child of Light – and we have no idea who this child is or will be – who will be helped by a Dark Child. The prophecy also states that this Dark Child will make his or her life miserable when he or she attends Hogwarts."

"Sounds like a nasty git to me."

"Such harshness will be for a good reason. This Child of Light must grow strong in heart and mind because he or she is destined to fight Voldemort. The prophecy does not foretell who wins the final battle, but if the Light prevails, it will only be with the help of the Dark Child."

Severus remained quiet, listening intently.

"I've wondered for some time if you might possibly be that Dark Child, Severus."

Sev said nothing. A full minute of silence passed before the Headmaster spoke again.

"I am allied with others who mean to fight for our lives rather than giving them away to such an evil man. We intend to fight to protect our families and our charges. We know the bare outlines of his plots, but there is no one to fill in the details."

Sev wove his slender fingers through the old man's beard for comfort, clenching them tightly. "It – sounds like you need someone who can do that -- someone who can learn of such plots and head them off before anyone is harmed."

"Unfortunately, such a spy would live what would amount to a cursed life," Dumbledore went on, unable to look into the boy's wide dark eyes. "Such a spy would have to abandon his friends on the side of the Light – to become fully immersed in utter evil – and to participate in rituals so foul they turn my stomach. He would need to join Voldemort's Dark army of killers."

Sev blinked hard. "To become a Death Eater?"

"Yes," the Headmaster continued. "Such a spy would need to pledge his allegiance to Voldemort and subject himself to that monster's whims and appetites. Terrible things could happen to such a person, Severus. He would learn to expect torture rather than praise. He would learn that every day of the rest of his life might be the day when he was captured or killed by either side. In other words, precious child, his life might prove to be short, ugly, and brutish."

Sev sat silent and lost in thought. Dumbledore waited and let the boy have time to ponder.

"I can do those things, Father. Is this something you want for me?"

Albus shook his head. "No. No, Severus, I do not. My instinct is to protect you from all of it."

"If I am the Dark Child in the prophecy – and I don't help the Child of Light defeat Voldemort – then Voldemort will win."

Albus hung his head. "Yes. You – you see how it is, Severus," he said in a cracked voice. "Our friends are dying, one by one. If Voldemort wins this battle, we will all be doomed. His evil will triumph."

"I've been familiar with that type of evil all my life. I reject it, but I also understand it. I would be the logical choice to become your spy, Headmaster. There is no other student at Hogwarts who knows the Dark Arts as well as I do. I am Slytherin. I am a loner who is unhappy with his life. My family is Dark."

Dumbledore hugged the boy tightly, wanting to protect him from harm and knowing he could not.

Severus continued. "I am being courted by the Malfoys. They would consider my recruitment into the Death Eaters as a great prize because I am so good at Dark potionmaking."

"Yes, child. You have something Voldemort wants, and badly."

"I would have to -- give up James and Lily, wouldn't I?" Severus ducked his head, letting wet strings of hair cover his face. He felt that same ache he experienced when he lost Martis; knowing that his Darkness would not permit him to have friends in his life.

"Yes, dear child. You would need to find a reason to hate me and to hate them as well. You would want to curry favor with Sartoris and Malfoy and all the others who believe that you have turned to the Darkness out of resentment and anger at me."

Severus gave a wry grimace. "I've already been spending my evenings in the Restricted Section of the library. I've already spent time at Professor Sartoris' home and the Malfoy Manor to advance my skills. It fits."

"Please believe me, Severus, when I say that you are free to choose. I will love you no matter which path you follow." As if his very words choked him, the greatest White wizard on Earth began to weep unashamedly.

Severus felt hot tears run down his cold face. Perhaps he was free to choose and nothing would happen if he refused to be Dumbledore's spy. But – what if something did? The boy knew that he would not be able to cope with the loss of the Headmaster's love. He was also sick to his stomach that his potion may have contributed to the deaths of the two young men who were instrumental in bringing Severus back from his latest suicide attempt.

"I will do it."

Albus moaned. "I have no right to expect – "

"Headmaster. This is my decision. No one has been as kind to me as you. No one has helped me as much as you. No one has wanted to see my ugly face, or has seen any good in me like you have. I love you, and there is nothing that I won't do to help you."

Dumbledore was struck silent by the boy's words.

"I won't do it for the Ministry. But I will do it for you, Father."

------------

Time slipped by as they clung to one another, gazing at the roaring hurricane-force winds that shrieked by them. When the slipstream parted for a few seconds, Severus could actually see the curvature of the Earth.

"My child," Albus sighed, holding him tight on the ceiling of the world. "You need not do this! You need not accept these terrible burdens!"

"It's all right, Father," Sev replied, his head resting against the old wizard's chest. "I've always felt useless and worthless. If I were your spy, I would feel neither. I'm also quite good at hiding my true feelings – you learn to do that when your father tortures you a lot."

"I love you, my dear boy."

"And I love you, my father."

"No one can hear us right now, Severus, but we cannot stay here much longer. If this is the path you wish to pursue, you need to stay your present course. Keep meeting with the Malfoys. Continue your perusal of the books in the Restricted Section. Indicate to Sartoris that you want to continue your father's work. We will await an opportunity when you can turn on me and Gryffindors in general, and in a very convincing way."

"But – when I treat you with such disrespect, will you still love me?" The boy's expression tore at the Headmaster's heart.

"Yes, Severus. I won't give up my precious Dark child, not for anything. Ever."

Sev began to cry again. "Sorry I'm such a baby," he moaned.

"You have every reason to cry," Dumbledore sighed.

"I can do everything you ask, knowing that you love me. That will keep me safe."

"But there will be no safety for you, child," Albus whispered.

"I meant my heart, Father. No matter how hard Voldemort tries, he will never have that."

The Headmaster took him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes.

"I will protect you as best I can, my Severus. If your enemies wish to kill you, I will keep you safe behind the Castle wards. If you are lonely, I will keep you company. If depression should overcome you, I will keep you sheltered until you feel better. If you are hurt, I will take care of you. I will do all this and more, and it still won't be enough recompense for what you will risk as my spy."

"It is enough," Severus Snape replied. "I never thought anyone valued me. I never dreamed that I had a purpose in life, let alone a noble one. I will spy for you and I will die for you as well, my father, if need be – for you and for this Child of Light."

Severus was lost in a hug while Dumbledore regained his composure.

"I will get you some training to keep your mind clear of all intrusions. You will also learn how to read others' thoughts – not always a welcome pastime, believe me. We shall tell no one of this plan except for Shonsey, who will teach you these skills. When the time has come for you to break with me and your Gryffindor friends, you can indicate to Malfoy and Sartoris that you wish to join the ranks of the Death Eaters."

"I can do that."

"When the time is right, and after you have left Hogwarts, I will inform the Ministry of your mission. Mind you, child, the Minister might not appreciate your efforts, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it. Of course, I will arrange a place where you and I can meet – a place totally impervious to detection."

"Please, Headmaster. I – don't want to be in a position where I will never see you again," Severus said, the worry evident on his young face. "I would miss you so much!"

"I will not leave you out there alone, Son. You will have my protection and help as long as I am alive. And even after – if I can manage it!"

Both Severus and Albus smiled at one another as their minds struggled with the enormity of the boy's decision.

Smoothly and calmly, the pinnacle view faded. The world's greatest White wizard eased the shining orb to the Castle's front lawn as gently as he would settle a soap bubble on a mirror.  
  
Severus rested in the old wizard's arms, a smile on his thin face.

"You are my home," he told Albus Dumbledore.

------------

A few moments passed before Sev realized that the Headmaster was no longer with him. Two amorphous shapes moving next to him resolved into James Potter and Lily Evans. To the boy's great relief, both were fine – no trace of frostbite or damaged internal organs. They were, in fact, laughing.

All three students were inside the gossamer sphere together, and it was snowing. James tried to catch the flakes on his tongue. His aim wasn't all that good; his glasses along with his hat had been blasted off him by the summit winds.

Severus grinned when he saw their Hogwarts classmates standing around the sphere looking in at them. No snow fell outside the tiny bubble of atmosphere. In fact, the local weather was sunny and unusually warm for early autumn in Scotland.

Sev, James, and Lily laughed and played in the snow while their friends stood on bare grass, enjoying the balmy breezes.

------------

It wasn't until Severus had settled into his bed that night when the magnitude of what he'd promised the Headmaster finally hit him.

He was scared down to the marrow of his bones, but glad to do his part to avenge his dead friends. He was also anxious to repay a small part of his debt to Dumbledore for his kindness and concern.

If it was necessary for him to hand his young life over to Albus Dumbledore, he would.

If it was necessary to turn against his friends, he would.

If it was necessary to live life going forward as a sham, he would.

Such things were easy if you were the Best Actor in the World.

THE END

-------------------------------------------------------  
  
This story may be over, but the angst lives on! "Dumbledore's Dark Child" will begin soon!

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Thank you all so much for reading and leaving reviews. You make me so happy!

Atana


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